Rendezvous at The Paradise Lost
by Angeepang
Summary: [Post HBP Complete] Hermione met Draco in a Muggle pub one night and for some reason she keeps on going back. Now the Death Eaters have found him and she is his only hope. And what about Ron and Harry?
1. The Paradise Lost

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's world, not mine.

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Hermione walked into an unfamiliar Muggle pub. She wasn't exactly a frequenter of other pubs per say, but she had never been in this particular one, the Paradise Lost, before. Normally she wouldn't have gone in at all, but she had been out for a walk to clear her head when it began to rain. Of course, she could have Apparated home, but she didn't want to risk it in the weather. Plus, something drew her to the bar.

* * *

It was dark when she entered the Paradise Lost, and Hermione observed it to be somewhat of a gentlemen's bar. It was dim and small and as she looked around all she could she was old men. Not older men, _old men_; men well past their prime with little to no hair nursing their drinks and talking about "the good old days".

Hermione sighed to herself as she heard the tumultuous downpour outside. She decided to sit at the bar and wait until the storm let up. Taking a stool at the counter, she ordered a whiskey sour from the bartender. She took a sip of her drink as the rain continued outside. Wishing she had a book, Hermione sat by herself waiting for the storm to clear when she realized someone had occupied the seat next to her. When she looked up, her eyes widened at the man beside her. _Draco Malfoy_.

* * *

"Evening Granger," he nodded. The sound of ice resonated as he finished the contents of his glass. He called over to the bartender for another one, "neat this time, Paulie."

This was not the same Draco Malfoy from Hogwarts. He was even paler, _if that was even possible_, and much thinner. For the first time, he was missing impeccable robes, dressed as a muggle (in all black of course). His eyes looked like glass, the spirit she had seen once gone. _Perhaps that's the liquor though._

Not sure quite how to react to him, Hermione played along. "Malfoy. It's been a while," she said as she calmly sipped her drink.

"Indeed it has," he said as the bartender brought him another glass of scotch, sans ice.

"What are you doing here?" She couldn't help her curiosity. _Were they planning to attack the Muggles in the area? Were there other Death Eaters around?_ She had nearly a million questions running through her head.

"Having a drink," an honest, genuine answer; no content or malice in his voice, no smirk, as if it was common to find him in a place like the Paradise Lost. "You know," he continued, "I never thought I'd ever like anything Muggle, but this scotch it quite good." _Was he drunk? A Death Eater on the lam nearly drunk off his ass at a Muggle bar. _Frustrated, Hermione tried to made her point more clearly to the blond next to her.

"I meant what are you doing _here_," she emphasized. Taking another small swig, she waited for his response.

He smiled at her as if the answer was obvious. "Can't you see Granger? Look around you." She still didn't understand and waited for him to finish drinking. "I'm waiting to die." He hadput it simply; drink in hand, not even looking at her. "These men, look at them. They're all close to it you can tell, _death,_" he emphasized. He turned to her and looked into her eyes, "I'm just waiting for my turn to die. You and I both know it's soon." Not many things could shock Hermione Granger, but Draco Malfoy's solemn answer certainly had taken her aback.

"Think about it Granger. I have no place anywhere anymore. I'd go home but I don't have one. This world, _our_ world," he shook his head, "it's forgotten about me. I'm a joke, no one would listen to what I have to say. I can't go backwards and I can't go forward. I'm just stuck. It's like," he paused before taking a drink, searching for the words. "I don't know, maybe, it's like being caught in quicksand. I'm sinking little by little, no way out." He looked over, read Herione's expression and assured her, "I've accepted my fate. Nothing more I can do but to wait for it," he shrugged.

"So that's it then? You're just going to sit here and drink yourself to death until it's your turn to die?"

"Sounds like a plan to me." He motioned for the bartender to bring him another glass.

"And that's all there is to it?" Why he made her angry, she had no idea. At least he wasn't with the Death Eaters murdering innocent people. But this was Malfoy, _Draco Malfoy_; the privileged, rich, and (as much as she hated to admit), smart boy who hated her because of her blood. And here she was, sitting in a Muggle bar with him, angry because he had just given up on life.

"Paulie! Another round for me and my lady friend!"

She couldn't understand him. "You can't just give up!"

"What else am I supposed to do, Granger? You heard what I said, I'm a joke." It wasn't what he said, but how he said it. Spoken like a man who had no other option, resignation in his voice.

"But—"

"There's no buts," he said, cutting her off, "you and I both know what's going through your pretty littlehead right now. What do you think your precious Order would do if you brought me back there tonight? You think I'd be welcomed with open arms?" He had practically read her mind. She wanted to believe they would accept him, but there was too much history to ignore. He was right; he had no place. She needed a minute to collect herself.

"Where are you staying?"

He smirked, "want to get me in bed while you still can, eh Granger," he said as he wiggled his eyebrows.

He still knew what buttons to press, that was for sure. "You flatter yourself if you think..."

"I _know_ what you were thinking," he teased as he took another sip of scotch. _And there's the smirk. _"I may be slightly intoxicated but I'm not stupid. I tell you were I'm staying and that's the end."

"But if you know the end is coming, why delay the inevitable?" _Reverse psychology could work._

He sat and thought about it for a moment. "Well, if I die today then you can't meet me tomorrow for a drink, now can you?"

_What was she supposed to say to that? _"I suppose not," she replied dumbly.

"Good, then it's settled. You meet me here again tomorrow for a drink—same time."

"How do I know it's not some kind of a trap?" Hermione Granger was nothing, if not clever. She knew better. "How do I know I can trust you?"

"You can't, Granger. That's the beauty of it. How do _I_ know you won't go back to your Order and tell them exactly where I'm going to be tomorrow at this very minute?" He paused to let her think about it the continued, "I trust my instincts, and my instincts tell me that you won't rat me out. You and I both know if I wanted to harm you in any way, I would have done it already. Now, you can choose to come back here tomorrow and meet me for a drink or you can choose not to. It's your prerogative quite frankly. Personally, I wouldn't mind your company so much."

She didn't know what to say. Instead, she got up and left some money down at the bar. "I have to go," she weakly replied.

"Maybe I'll see you around, Granger. Watch out for yourself, okay?" She nodded and took one last look at the broken man at the bar before leaving. She wanted to go back tomorrow and see him, make sure he was alright, maybe even talk some sense into him. She wanted to fix him, if that was even possible, _but how_? And how was she supposed to tell everyone about him? She knew she _should_ tell everyone what had happened, but could she?

With her hands in her pockets and Draco Malfoy in her head, Hermione walked down the street back to her flat. The storm had cleared and the sun was beginning to pop out. Perhaps the clear weather was a good sign.

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**Author's Note – **This story came to me actually while I was writing a sequel to _No Trace Behind_, so I put that aside and had to write this one down. I was listening to the Goo Goo Dolls song _Broadway_ and I just connected the lyrics with Draco Malfoy. So this is my very firstchapter fic. I'm not exactly sure where I am going with it yet though, so give me some feedback and let me know where I should take it. 


	2. A Conversation With Crookshanks

**Disclaimer–J. K. Rowling's world not mine.

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Hermione had walked slower than usual on her way back to her flat still thinking about the unusual encounter at the pub; the only trace of the storm had been the puddles of water on the sidewalks. When she opened the door to her flat, Crookshanks was there to greet her on the other side. She scooped him up and nuzzled his head.

"Oh Crookshanks, I don't know what to do," she said as they made their way to the couch. She sat there idly for a moment, until Crookshanks meowed and gave her that, _pet me as you tell me about your day_ look. She smiled and scratched his head.

"You'll _never_ believe what happened to me today," she said to him. He purred in response.

"I saw Draco Malfoy today–at a Muggle pub no less!" Crookshanks let out a loud meow at the revelation. "I know! That's about the last place on Earth I would have expected to run into him." She stopped petting Crookshanks for a minute and went over her encounter with Draco at the bar.

"That wasn't the weirdest part though." Crookshanks nuzzled his head to her hand and she began stroking him again. "He sat down right next to me. Draco Malfoy, in a Muggle pub, actually sought me out. Not only that, but we managed to have a conversation–he and I have never had a civilized conversation _ever_." She shook her head and continued petting Crookshanks.

"Do you know what he told me," she asked the cat. He looked up at her and blinked. She sighed, "he said that he's just waiting to die." She spoke softly so that her voice could barely be heard over Crookshanks' purring. "It was," she paused trying to find the words. "I don't know, it was weird, Crookshanks. He looked empty and hollow. Does that make sense?" She paused for a minute.

"I never thought I'd feel compassion for _Draco Malfoy_. He's changed," she added as an afterthought, "he's not the boy I knew in school." She looked down at the cat and continued, "I mean, I'm not naive either. I know what he did and what he planned to do; but something has to be said about the fact that he couldn't bring himself to do it, right?"

Crookshanks meowed in response and she went on, "You know, all these years I never really reckoned him as evil. But then again I could be wrong. Perhaps he is?" He meowed louder this time and Hermione smiled, "Yeah, I didn't think so either."

Crookshanks got up and circled her lap, making himself more comfortable. He knew what Hermione was like when she had something on her mind and figured that they'd be there for a while debating the subject.

"I don't think I should tell anyone about this–not yet anyway. Harry and Ron would have a fit. And the Order–Merlin knows what they'd do. It's not like he'd cooperate with us either, though to be perfectly honest, I don't think there's much information he'd be able to give us. I mean, he fled with Snape that night a _year_ ago. I wonder when he left the Death Eaters? Or why? And how the heck did he end up at that pub?"

She sighed. There were about a million questions running through her mind. "I need some time. I mean, if I could just get through to Draco, talk some sense into him. It doesn't have to be a hopeless situation after all."

Crookshanks began to knead Hermione's thighs but she took no notice. "You wouldn't believe how pale he looks. And thin too," to which Hermione shook her head.

"Though maybe if he would wear something other than _black_, he wouldn't appear so thin and pale. He was dressed in all black, _head to toe_," she emphasized. "Shock, I know, but even in Muggle clothes, _all black_."

Crookshanks didn't seem to care about how strange it was to see Pureblooded Draco Malfoy in Muggle attire. His large yawn made that quite clear to Hermione. She smiled at him.

"He didn't insult me at all, you know." She laughed as she explained to Crookshanks that Draco had even referred to her as his "lady friend" to Paulie. "He's the bartender, you see," she cleared up for him, "at the Paradise Lost." She thought for a minute, "he even said something about my 'pretty little head'. What do you suppose he meant by that?" Crookshanks didn't seem to know.

"Oh, and here's the best part. He thought I wanted to sleep with him! _Ha_, like that would ever happen." Crookshanks meowed and she went on, "You see, I asked him where he was staying; so he, being Draco Malfoy, smirked at me and took it as my wanting to jump into bed with him, when, in actuality, I really did just want to know where he's staying." She shook her head as a smile crept on her face. "Actually I think it was more of him teasing me to be honest. It wasn't a condescending tone, but more of a teasing one. Either way, he flatters himself if he even _thinks_ that I would ever–well, _you know_, with him. _Ha_!"

Hermione then shooed Crookshanks off her lap (much to his irritation) and started wandering around the room, moving things around and tidying up spots that weren't even messy.

"He asked me to meet him again tomorrow, for a drink. Do you think I should go?" Crookshanks turned his back to her, still annoyed at being brushed off her lap. "I could be walking right into a trap," she sighed as she sat back down on the couch. Her cat took this opportunity to reclaim his spot. She laid her head back, not paying attention to Crookshanks, much to his chagrin.

"I don't think it's a trap. I mean, he had the opportunity to try something today but he didn't, right? But maybe that's what he wants. Wait for my guard to be down and then strike." She reflected for a moment and rubbed Crookshanks' neck.

"No, I don't think that's it. You know what I think, Crookshanks?" She paused for a minute, "I don't think Draco has it in him. Harry told me about the night–" she stopped herself. Even now, it still hurt to think about. She shook it off and got a hold of herself.

"Harry said he started to lower his wand. Draco couldn't go through with it. That means something." What it meant exactly, Hermione wasn't sure. She reckoned that, perhaps, there was still a chance for him.

"That settles it, Crookshanks. I'm going back to meet Draco tomorrow." Crookshanks meowed at her. She would like to have thought that he was giving her his blessing for her decision, but she knew it was probably more about his wanting a belly rub. She laughed and pet Crookshanks as he stretched out on her legs. Somehow, with her cat purring contentedly in her lap, things didn't seem as complicated.

* * *

Hermione laid in bed later that night with Crookshanks snoozing right beside her. She was thinking about what she would say to Draco tomorrow when a thought popped into her head. _When did I start calling him Draco?

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**Author's Note–**I can't believe all the positive feedback the first chapter received. It definitely helped me write this one a little easier and I was eager to get it out to you guys. I thought about some of the stuff you responded to, that I never even thought about, which really helped. Crookshanks' action were greatly influenced by my own cat because I don't think there's too much about his actions in the books. I'm not crazy about this chapter but it's necessary for the future, so hopefully I'll make it up to you guys. Finally (wow I've turned into one of those writers who have really long AN at the end) I noticed once the first chapter got posted some of the words are spliced together. This happened after I uploaded it so I apologize (those things really annoy me when I am reading a fic). Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up later this week (I still need to actually write it first though).


	3. Of Satelites and SPEW

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's world, not mine.

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Crookshanks was curled up in a ball around her feet when Hermione woke up the next morning. She was feeling extremely refreshed. She'd had a very pleasant dream that night. Of course, it was one of those really good dreams that you know was really good, but you can't seem to remember what it was about once you woke up, no matter how hard you tried. At any rate, Hermione was in a good mood.

She left Crookshanks on the bed still sleeping while she showered. When she was done, Hermione settled herself into the kitchen with a cup of tea and the Daily Prophet. She read the paper cover to cover; nothing unusual was going on, or at least nothing unusual had been reported that morning. She made her way back into her bedroom after washing her dishes and got dressed. The final task was to make her bed. Unfortunately for Crookshanks, he had to be kicked off the bed from his rather comfortable spot. "I can't very well leave without making the bed now, can I," she said to the annoyed feline.

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That afternoon Hermione found herself rushing to the Leaky Cauldron. She waved hello to Tom as she made her way to the corner table when she, Harry, and Ron always had lunch. 

"You're late, Hermione," Ron said, pointing out the obvious.

"Yeah, if you'd have been any longer we would have had to come find you," Harry added giving her a cheeky smile.

Ron energetically continued, "we just started tracking today at training–you wouldn't believe all the ways the Aurors have to keep tabs on people. Wizard _and_ Muggle ways even! Have you ever heard of a tastellite Hermione?"

"Satellite, Ron," Harry corrected.

Of course she had known about satellites, but she indulged them. Hermione was happy that Harry and Ron had found something (other than Quidditch, of course) that they were so passionate about. She didn't pay them much attention though. Her mind had been elsewhere. In fact, she was having trouble focusing all morning. She kept on thinking about Dra–er, Malfoy, and what she would say to him that night. She couldn't very well give him the third degree. Perhaps if she just went in there and–

"Hello, Hermione, you home?" She shook her head and saw Ron waving his hand in front of her.

"Oh, yeah, sorry guys."

"You alright, Hermione? You seem a bit distracted." Harry wasn't as tactless as Ron about these things.

"Yeah I'm fine," she said brushing them off, "I guess my head's still back at St. Mungo's."

"So Healer training is going well?" Harry asked.

"Yeah it's going really well, actually," she said earnestly. "I mean, it's hard work, but it's really rewarding. And Healer Conrad is really encouraging–she said that if I keep up all the hard work I could be running the hospital one day. Wouldn't that be amazing? I could even build a new wing for creatures like house-elv–"

"Hermione please!" Ron interrupted dramatically. "No more _spew _talk!"

She got annoyed, "Ron it's not _spew_! It's S.P.–"

"E.W. Yeah, yeah, we know."

"New subject!" Harry announced. Hermione knew how much he hated when the two of them fought; the last thing he wanted was getting in the middle of one of their ridiculous fights, _again_.

"So, Hermione," Harry started, "I floo'd you last night, where were you?" Hermione had been so caught off guard she dropped her knife on the floor. Harry started to laugh, "you're going to see a male friend today?" he said rather scandalously.

"What do you mean?" Hermione said quickly; inwardly, she was panicking that Harry knew about her drink with Dra–er, Malfoy the night before.

"You dropped your knife. It's superstition that when you drop your knife–you know what, forget it. I was just teasing anyways. I mean, you're _sitting _here with two male friends."

"Oh, right." She said as she poked her food around. "And I just fancied a walk last night. I must have missed your floo."

Ron spoke up at her statement. "You fancied a walk? Hermione it was storming last night."

"I know that Ron, I was out before it was raining and got caught in it, thank-you-very-much."

"So where were you then? I floo'd you when it was still raining."

"I went into this place and waited until the storm let up."

"What place?" Harry asked.

"Just some café that was around."

She hated lying to her friends, but they would give her the third degree about going into a Muggle pub by herself. They'd make her tell them which one it was and then she would risk being seen by them if they suspected she went back. And if they saw her with Dra–er, Malfoy, well then forget about it! She could picture it right now. She'd been in there with _Malfoy_ and then Harry and Ron would walk in. They'd come over to them and Ron would make some remark about how the pub had a vermin problem, as there was a rather large ferret at the bar. Harry would be gripping his wand so tightly that his knuckles would turn white–it'd probably take all his strength not to curse Dra–er, Malfoy into oblivion. There would be name calling, a fight, broken glasses. No, she didn't want a scene. She wanted to give Dra–er, Malfoy some time. She just needed to work on him a little.

"Well you're just lucky you didn't catch a cold out in the rain," Ron said, slightly reprimanding.

"Thank you for worrying _Mrs. Weasley_," she said to Ron with a smirk that rivaled Dra–er, Malfoy's.

At this, Harry started laughing. "Sorry mate, but you _did _just kind of sound like your mum there." Ron went back to his food, ears turning pink.

* * *

When Hermione arrived back at her flat that evening she tried to settle herself down with a book. She couldn't seem to concentrate on _Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions_ though. Finally, she went into her bedroom (Crookshanks hot on her tail) and began searching through her wardrobe. Crookshanks made himself comfortable on the bed and meowed at her curiously. 

"I'm meeting Dra–er, Malfoy later," she said to him,"but it's not like I'm changing my clothes for _him_, you see," she said quickly. "I just don't want to show up at some pub in my good work clothes, that's all." She was still looking for something to wear and continued, "you see, if I show up like this," she said, "he'd probably think I dressed up for _him_, when, in reality, you and I both know that this is how I'm expected to dress for Healer training. And the last thing I need is for Dra–er, Malfoy, to think that I want to look nice for him. He'd _probably_ take it as me wanting to get him into bed again." Hermione shook her head, "did I tell you about that? About how he thought–" Hermione was interrupted by a loud meow from her bed. "Yes well, needless to say, I don't want him getting any ideas," Hermione said as she pulled out a simple top and some pants. After she showered (she didn't want to smell like a hospital after all) and dressed, she kissed Crookshanks goodbye and left for the Paradise Lost.

* * *

She walked there the same way as the day before. Hermione was twenty minutes early–_perfect_. She'd just survey the area first, make sure there were no Death Eaters or anyone else suspicious hanging around.

A man and woman holding hands, a group of school kids passing around a bag of sweets, a woman pushing a pram while her baby cried inside it, and a boy taking his dog for a walk, all passed by the pub with no notice in the twenty minutes Hermione had been watching. She went to go inside but stopped herself. _I can't go in yet. It's too early. I have to make him wait a while first. Oh Merlin, listen to me–I sound like I'm waiting for a guy to pick me up for a date. This is ridiculous. Well, this most certainly is not a date, so I have no reason to be nervous. _

Hermione wasn't quite sure why she was nervous to meet him again. She stood outside the pub trying to pluck up her Gryffindor courage. It was another five minutes until she was actually able to go inside.

* * *

She found him right away (his blond hair stood out amongst the white and grey hair of the old men), sitting in the exact spot she had left him in. For all she knew, he might not have even left. Once she got closer she reckoned he had to have left the pub sometime last night (or early that morning) as his clothes, though _still_ all black, were different. Hermione approached him without a word. She sat down on the same stool as the day before; there was a drink waiting for her there that she eyed cautiously. Hermione looked over towards Dra–er Malfoy as he took a drink for his glass. _Scotch again; the man's consistent at least._

Sensing her eyes on him, he smirked and turned to her. "I knew you'd come back."

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**Author's note**–I think that's a good place to end it. I agonized over this chapter. I actually wrote four different variations of it, before typing this one out. I was originally going to end it before she met up with Draco again, but I thought you guys would like a tease of interaction between these two. No worries, the next chapter is all Draco/Hermione. I actually wrote that whole chapter while I was taking a break from writing this one. That's the thing–I get these great ideas for scenes and I write them out then I try to find a way to fit them into my story which proves difficult at times. But seeing as how the next chapter is written, I should get it up quicker than this one. Thanks for reading and don't forget to leave me some feedback–it really does help. 


	4. Hermione In Wonderland

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's world, not mine.

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She sat down on the same stool as the day before; there was a drink waiting for her there that she eyed cautiously. Hermione looked over towards Dra–er Malfoy as he took a drink from his glass. _Scotch again; the man's consistent at least._

Sensing her eyes on him, he smirked. "I knew you'd be back," he said as he set his glass down and turned to face her. He noticed she hadn't touched her drink.

"I didn't poison it, Granger," he said rolling his eyes, "whiskey sour, right?" She nodded and cautiously took a sip. "See, you're not dead."

"I'm also not ten inches tall either," she said smiling wryly and took a larger sip.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Why would you be ten inches tall from a drink?" he asked.

She laughed, "it's from a Muggle children's story."

He looked intrigued. "Pray tell, Granger. How does one end up ten inches tall in this Muggle children's story?"

Hermione very simply explained to him that, "the bottle said 'drink me' so Alice did and it shrunk her down to ten inches."

"She just drank it? She didn't know what the hell she was drinking, it could have been poison for all she knew."

Hermione shook her head, "No, Alice checked the bottle and it wasn't marked poison so she reckoned it safe to drink. Besides, she couldn't get out of the rabbit hole any other way."

"Get out of where?" He looked confused.

"Well I guess I should start from the beginning, eh?"

"That's generally the best place, Granger," he said as he ordered another scotch from Paulie.

"Well, Alice saw this rabbit and followed him down his rabbit hole one day."

"Why would she follow a rabbit?"

"She was bored and had nothing to do. Besides," she added, "he was wearing a waist coat and kept on saying how late he was."

"Late for what?" he interrupted.

"I'll get to that later," she said brushing him off. She took another drink and continued, "so she fell down the rabbit hole and couldn't get out the way she came, of course–"

"Down the rabbit hole?"

"Yes. Anyway, Alice came to a room with all these doors but she couldn't open them. The only one that would open was much too small but then she noticed a vial on this table that said 'drink me' on it. Yes, she checked to see if it was marked poison first. So after she gets small and fits under the door she makes her way into Wonderland."

"Wonderland?" he said skeptically.

"That's right."

"And what did she do in Wonderland?"

"Well, she wandered around a bit talking to different creatures."

"Such as..."

"Well, there was the caterpillar smoking a hookah on a mushroom, and there was the Cheshire cat."

"Alright," he responded. She could tell he was interested.

"She found the white rabbit's house and when she was inside she accidentally grew to the ceiling."

"Why does she keep on changing heights?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. It just seems to happen a lot in Wonderland."

"Is that all she did? Grow abnormally?"

"No! There were loads of other things. She went to a mad tea party."

He scoffed. "Why would she go to a mad tea party?"

"She didn't know the hatter was mad at first."

"Oh."

"What else," she said to herself as she fiddled with her glass. "Of course! How could I forget. There was a croquet game."

"Croquet?" he asked. _Of course he wouldn't know what croquet was_.

"Yes, it's a Muggle sport. You use mallets to hit balls through arches on the ground."

"So Alice played this croquet game?"

"Yes, only in Wonderland they used live flamingos ("they're a type of–" he interrupted "yes Granger, I know flamingos are birds!") as the mallets, hedgehogs as the balls, and soldiers on their hands and knees as the arches," she explained. Taking a long drink, she emptied her glass. As she continued, Draco ordered her another drink from Paulie. "Well, you can imagine what playing with live animals would be like–it was chaos." She wasn't sure if he understood her meaning and tried to clarify, "it'd be like playing Quidditch, with a small bird as the Snitch."

"That's ridiculous," he responded.

"That's what Alice thought too."

"So then what happened?"

"Well," she started, trying to remember the rest of the story, "then there was a trial."

"A trial? For what?"

She explained, "someone stole the Queen of Hearts' tarts," to which, he cracked a smile. "No, I'm serious. It's a Muggle nursery rhyme," she assured him.

"How does it go?"

"The nursery rhyme?" He nodded and Hermione sighed fondly, remembering the rhymes of her childhood, "The queen of hearts, She made some tarts, All on a summer's day; The knave of hearts, He stole those tarts, And with them ran away: The king of hearts Called for those tarts, And beat the knave full sore; The knave of hearts Brought back those tarts, And said he'd ne'er steal more."

"So the knave of hearts stole them?"

"Yes and there was a trial and they put Alice on the stand to testify."

"But what did she have to do with it?"

"Nothing, so of course she was no help whatsoever which made the Queen really angry and ordered Alice off with her head."

"What?" he said, "that makes no sense!"

"It's not supposed to make sense. The whole entire story is nonsensical."

"So they beheaded Alice?"

"No, you see," she said taking a drink, "when Alice was in the court house she began growing again."

"Like before in the rabbit's house?"

"Exactly. So she wasn't afraid, naturally, because she was so much bigger."

"Makes sense," he said sipping another bit of scotch.

"_And then_..." she started but paused. He didn't seem to appreciate that.

"And then what? How does it end!" he asked with curiosity.

"And then Alice woke up, under the tree where she had fallen asleep in the beginning of the story." He looked somewhat puzzled and somewhat annoyed.

"So let me get this straight, Granger. The _entire thing _was nothing more than a _dream_?"

"Yup," she assured him as she polished off her second glass.

"But that's such a waste of time!"

"Is it? The whole story is about a little girl wasting time because she was bored and had nothing better to do," she explained. "Some people would argue that sitting in a _pub_ all day is a waste of time too," she said to him, lifting up an eyebrow knowingly.

"Well Granger," he said finishing off his drink as well, "you certainly have given me some food for thought."

They sat in a surprisingly comfortable silence for a moment before Hermione spoke up. "It's getting late," she said checking her watch, "I should probably get going." She got up from her stool and started digging through her bag for some Muggle money when he stopped her.

"I got it, Granger."

"But–"

"As you said, it's getting late. You should be going," he said looking over at her. He held her gaze for a moment before sighing in defeat. "Whatever it is you're going to ask me," he said, "I'm sure it can wait until tomorrow?" She nodded.

"Thank you for the drinks, Malfoy," she said with a shy smile.

"Thank you for the company," he said genuinely. "Until tomorrow then."

"Until tomorrow," she replied.

* * *

Hermione left the Paradise Lost feeling slightly more confused than when she had arrived. She never meant to spend the night telling Draco the story of Alice in Wonderland; why was he so intrigued by a Muggle children's tale anyway? She had intended to ask him questions. How did he get there? Why was he there? What happened with the Death Eaters and how did he leave? What else did he do during the day, or was he at the pub the whole time? Where did he get Muggle money from? And why did he pay for her drinks anyway? The most important question on Hermione's mind though, was why did it feel like her heart had skipped a beat when she saw him again? She'd just have to wait until tomorrow. 

"After all, tomorrow is another day," she said, fondly quoting Scarlett O'Hara.

* * *

**Author's Note**–I know this chapter doesn't do much but I kind of liked the idea of Hermione telling Malfoy a Muggle story. I wrote two more chapters today, but they are later chapters. I wish I could write in sequential order but it never works out that way, so I have these two chapters that will come later that I think you guys will enjoy (questions will be answered eventually, promise!), I just need to figure out the chapters between now and then. I'll try to have the next chapter up later this week or early next week. 

Oh, and someone commented on the Dra-er Malfoy thing. That's Hermione starting to call him Draco, but then catching herself. In this chapter she kind of switches off and on when she's alone and thinking. If annoys you guys as you read let me know and I'll stop doing it, but I thought it would be something that she might do. Okay, this AN is now too long. Thanks for reading, let me know what you think and what I can do to improve (or do you like where I am going?).


	5. What Made Her Green

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's world, not mine.

* * *

**

The next day passed as the previous one had; Healer training, lunch with the boys at the Leaky Cauldron, back to Healer training, and then home to her flat. Only today, Hermione was not so antsy. In fact, she was actually looking forward to having drinks with Draco.

It was a warm night. The last traces of the sun were gone as Hermione walked over to the pub. She was early again. Twenty minutes and no sign of danger later, she went inside the Paradise Lost.

* * *

She smiled to herself as she made her way towards him. Same spot, same drink; like the day before, a whiskey sour was there waiting for her. Hermione sat down in her stool as he nodded and raised his drink to her. She did the same a took a sip letting the whiskey warm her throat as she tried to muster up her courage–tonight she was going to get some answers from him.

"Can I ask you something?"

"I believe you just did, Granger."

"Don't be cheeky, you know what I meant," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Ask me whatever you like," he said, "though I won't guarantee I'll answer."

"It's nothing like that, actually."

"Go on then," he said, taking another sip of his scotch.

"Well," she started, "I was just wondering what it is you _do_ all day."

"I breath." He certainly knew how to push her buttons.

"Oh your wit astounds me."

"What do you think I do all day?" he asked her.

"I don't know," she answered honestly, "that's why I was asking. I was just curious, that's all." Draco's face hardened. For some reason, Hermione's question made him angry.

"Oh, I see. So you think I'm out there with the Death Eaters," he whispered furiously.

"No, it's not–"

"Save it, Granger," he spat, "do you think I could actually go back–"

"I didn't mean it that–"

"–after what they did?"

"What happ–"

"Well I'm _not _alright! So just drop it." There was a tense pause. Draco downed the rest of his scotch and slammed the glass on the counter. He ordered another one from Paulie, the bartender, as Hermione sat there looking down at her glass.

"I didn't think that's what you were doing, and I wasn't trying to imply it either," she said quietly. His response was sarcastic. "It's true," she started, "I just wanted to know if you did something _other_ than sit in here and _drink all day_." She paused to gulp down a mouthful of her drink and continued, "believe it or not, the thought of you spending your days off on some little Death Eater nonsense never occurred to me." When he looked into her eyes, he knew she spoke the truth.

"It _never_ occurred to you?" She shook her head. "Why? It's not like I have the best track record."

"I know that."

"So how do you know I'm not really here on some Death Eater mission? Doing some reconnaissance to punish all these Muggles?" he asked her.

"I have a feeling the only person in this pub you're trying to punish is yoursel,." she told him matter-of-factly. He seemed taken aback at her observation. Draco thought about it for a while as he raised his glass to his lips. He didn't say anything so Hermione went on. "Now that we've established that you do _not_ spend your days wreaking havoc wit the Death Eaters I'll ask you again. What is it you do all day?"

"Tell me something, Granger–what is it _you_ do all day? You were never one to be idle." She sighed, knowing that if she wanted an answer out of Draco, it'd be in her best interest to answer him first. She told him about her Healer training.

"So...you...I mean...you went _back_ then?" He couldn't even bring himself to say Hogwarts.

"No, I didn't," she said quietly, "hard to believe, I know." She sighed and told him, "I studied independently from last summer to Christmas, and then I was accepted for Healer training at Saint Mungo's. I'm supposed to train for two years–"

"But the overachiever in you is so ahead that you'll no doubt finish early." She let out a dry laugh. "I'm right, aren't I?"

She nodded. "I should be done six months early."

"No doubt you'll be running the place in a few years."

Hermione smiled, "that's what Healer Conrad said too."

"Healer Conrad would know. She's one of the best."

Hermione wanted to lighten up the mood and change the subject. Somehow, they always ended up talking about _her_. No wonder why she never got any answers.

"So tell me, Malfoy. You've been living in the Muggle world for a while now, yes?" He nodded and confirmed. "Well, what do you think?"

"Honestly? It's not as bad as I thought it would be," he said. "It took a while to adjust; using a key instead of _Alohomora_ was harder than I reckoned it, but I managed eventually."

"Muggles aren't so bad after all, eh?"

"No. Actually, I was rather surprised at the way they live without magic. They seem happy enough."

"Muggles don't have magic. You can't miss what you never had," she told him.

"True," he said taking a drink, "but there are things about our world I miss."

"Like what?" she asked.

"I miss going to school, playing Quidditch, being home at Malfoy Manor, Chocolate Frogs," he sighed longingly and finished his glass of scotch. As he placed his glass down on the bar (gently this time) he turned to Hermione, "do you know what else I like about the Muggle world, aside from this scotch? I very much enjoy the television. It's quite interesting."

"You have one, then?" she asked him. He nodded and went on.

"I watched this _movie_ on the television the other day."

"What was it called?" she asked, curious as to what kind of movie would spark Draco Malfoy's interest.

"It was about magic," he said, "the _Wizard of Oz_." She let out a heart-felt laugh. "You've seen it, then?" he asked her.

"Yes, it's a very famous movie. In fact, most Muggles have seen it at one time or another, actually."

"The whole time–the wizard was a _fraud_," he reflected, "and _no one _knew! How is that possible?"

"Well–" Hermione started.

"And the Wicked Witch; what made her _green_? I mean, I'm all for Slytherin pride andeverything (and she was definitely a Slytherin), but did she have an accident in Potions or something?"

"I don't–"

"And that broomstick she rode! What a piece of junk! It looked like one of the old Shooting Star brooms!"

"Yes but–"

"Though I must say," Draco interrupted her once again, "that her use of wandless magic was impressive." Hermione let out a chuckle but he didn't notice, "do Muggles really believe witches'll melt if they throw water on them?" Hermione couldn't help but smile at his enthusiam.

"They're just actors in costumes with clever tricks and angles to make it look like she was flying or using wandless magic."

"I understand that, Granger, but answer me this; a Muggle came up with the story, yes? So do they really believe all witches would melt from water?"

"No, it was just part of the story. Though," she added, "they thought burning witches would kill them."

"Yes, I knew that. I didn't spend all of my days in Professor Binns' class asleep, you know," he said, "but the water thing was weird."

"She wasn't even really melting. She was evaporating."

"Oh Granger, still the know-it-all," he said smirking at her.

"So what did you think of the movie?"

"It was enjoyable. It kind of reminded me of that _Alice in Wonderland_ story you were telling me about." Hermione thought about it for a moment.

"Yes, I see how they kind of parallel," she said. In fact, Hermione never really connected the two before.

"You know, Granger," Draco said, "I think you're rather like Alice."

"How so?" she asked him.

"When you step through those doors," he said pointing, "you're in Wonderland. And you sit here with me and we have a mad tea party."

"You're not mad," she reassured him.

"We're all born mad," he told her, " some remain so."

"Perhaps," she responded, "but I still don't reckon you're mad." He smiled as she finished her drink. "I should go."

"Healer training early in the morning, eh?" She nodded and got up. When she started to dig through her bag, he stopped her as he had the night before. "You don't have to–"

"Granger," he sighed.

"But how–never mind. Thank you for the drinks, Malfoy. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Until tomorrow, then."

* * *

As Hermione walked back to her flat, the words of Draco Malfoy ran through her head; _Do you think I could actually go back after what they did? _What did the Death Eaters do to him? Whatever it was, Hermione had a feeling it had been the reason for his sanctuary in the Muggle world. The wheels in Hermione's head began to spin as she thought about her next meeting with Draco.

* * *

**Author's Note**–There's not much to say about this chapter. When I was writing it, I wasn't sure how you guys would respond so let me know. I'm looking forward to the next chapter; I need to tweek it a bit, but I think it's cute and I hope you guys will enjoy it. I'll probably have it up later this week sometime. Suggestions are welcome too, so let me know what you want to see. 


	6. Believe In Me

**Disclaimer–J.K. Rowling's world, not mine.

* * *

**

They always sat side-by-side; never even a buffer stool in between them, even though they were the only two who ever sat at the counter. Indeed, they had quite a routine. Every night, Hermione would meet Draco for drinks, with the exception of Sunday. She had told him she was going to see her parents on Sunday.

"Sure, Granger. Going to see your parents," he said, as if he knew more than she was telling him. After she gave him 'that look', he told her that she really had an Order meeting Sunday night. Her silence confirmed it. Before she could ask, Draco told her that the Death Eaters knew about the Order's weekly meetings on Sunday nights, but have no clue where they were held ("_at least, not since I left_").

"Do you think they've gotten any closer since then?" she asked him with concern. This was serious business.

"You lot are very enigmatic when need be, Granger," he assured her. "And I have a suspicion that even if they _did _know where the meetings are held,_ if in fact they are in the same location every week _(the Death Eaters were never sure about _that _either), they probably wouldn't be able to find this place anyway." He smiled at her knowingly. She wouldn't confirm or deny anything he said, but that was enough for the two of them. They had developed this understanding. Hermione and Draco sat quietly for a moment until Hermione spoke up again.

"I _really am_ going to visit my parents on Sunday."

"Of course you are," he replied quickly.

"It's true," she assured him. For some reason, Hermione didn't want Draco to think she was a liar.

"I _believed_ you the first time, Granger," he assured her. "I was merely pointing out the fact that you also had an Order meeting, which you _conveniently _'forgot' to mention." There had been no malice in his voice. In fact, Draco spoke to her in a somewhat teasing manor. Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh, wipe that smirk off your face, _Blondie_." He laughed.

"Wow Granger, very original," he said, drinking some scotch. "Though I ought to say, it must have taken a lot of willpower to not call me 'ferret'. Either way, I would have expected more from you. I'm disappointed in you, Granger, _I truly am_."

* * *

When Hermione met him the following Monday night, it was business as usual. He was there on his stool drinking a glass of scotch, whiskey sour waiting for her at herplace next to him. He didn't bring up the Order meeting, but he did ask about her parents. 

"What is it they do again?"

She put her drink down and explained to him, "they're dentists."

"That's like Healers for your teeth, right?"

"Something like that," she told him.

"What are they like?" he asked her.

"Well, they're good people."

"Of course they're good people, Granger. I would expect nothing less from the people who raised you." She smiled and took his statement as a compliment. "Personality-wise, I meant."

"They're both a bit introverted at times, especially when they're in uncomfortable surroundings," she told him. She took a drink and went on, "my mum wears the pants in the family, though she lets my dad _think _he does." Draco laughed and she went on, "yeah my mum can be a bit bossy at times–_don't_ look at me that way, I know what you're thinking!"

"Okay bossy–bird." She sighed. "What about your father?"

"My dad? He's," she sighed and smiled, "he's one of the smartest people I know. He always wanted the best for me; still sees me as his baby girl." Draco smiled. "One of the most stubborn people you'll ever meet, too." Draco feigned shock.

"_No_! You mean to tell me that a member of the Granger family is _stubborn_? I never would have thought; never in a million years I tell you."

"Are you trying to insinuate something?" she asked him. She knew exactly where this was going.

"Me? No, not at all."

"I'm not stubborn," she told him.

"Of course you're not."

"I'm _not_!"

He dropped the topic and they sat in silence for a minute. "Do you believe in angels, Granger?"

"Yes." She answered without stopping to think about it.

Draco smiled. "Of course you would."

"Why," Hermione asked him, "don't you?"

"I guess. Do you suppose–I mean," he paused, "I always wondered if angels could die," he confessed.

"I never really thought about it that way," she admitted.

"I always reckoned that if angels died, that light would just fade."

"That's so sad to think about," Hermione said, fiddling with her glass.

"Alas, that's life–or _death_ actually." He finished his glass of scotch.

"Is that what you believe?" she asked him.

"I don't know what I believe in anymore, Granger. I mean, I want to believe that there's something to actually believe _in_. If that makes any sense."

"It does," she stated.

"I grew up believing in the things my father told me. I held onto that for so long and look where it got me. Then I let go and still, life isn't much better," Draco looked at Hermione; a piece of hair had fallen in front of her face. He reached up and tucked it back, "though I must say, life has been looking better lately." His hand lingered for a moment before he drew it back and took another sip. "I'd just like to believe in something again. If I had something to believe in," he sighed, "I'd have a _reason_." Hermione's heart swelled. She wanted so badly to reach out to him.

"_Believe in me_."

He looked down at his glass and smiled. "That's a lot of responsibility, Granger," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Lucky for you I'm a very responsible person," Hermione guaranteed.

He laughed, "I should hope so, being a Healer in training and all. Wouldn't want you to forget to lock up the psych ward one night–they'd find Lockhart the next morning in _Flourish & Blotts _signing books."

"That's not nice!" Hermione said, though she couldn't help but crack a smile. "I thought Professor Lockhart–"

"_You _thought the man was good-looking. Don't kid yourself there, Granger."

"Very well, I can admit I found him rather," she paused, "_dapper_."

"Dapper! _Please_. You and every other girl practically drooled all over the man. I bet you still have everything he gave you–notes he made on your homework assignments, essays with his comments..." Hermione's face went red and he laughed. "Oh Granger, you _kill _me!" he roared.

"I kept _all _my stuff from school, alright! Not just Lockhart's class!" Hermione had to defend herself after all. "I still have notes from Divination; does that mean I fancy _Trelawney _too?"

"You dropped Divination," Draco stated, pointing out the obvious.

"I know, but I still have my notes from when I was in the class."

"Why?" he asked her.

"I don't know. Why not? What harm is it in keeping my notes?"

Draco sighed. "Granger, you made it perfectly clear how you felt about the subject. So isn't it a little hypocritical holing onto notes from a class you thought was a load of rubbish?"

What could she say? Hermione wasn't quite sure why she still had those old Divination notes, now that she thought about it. But there was no harm in holding onto them, right? If anything, she could look back in the future and laugh at how preposterous the whole subject was.

"Don't give me any more grief."

"I was merely–"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." She took a drink looking somewhat defeated. "_And people say I'm a know-it-all_," she muttered into her glass loud enough for him to hear. He merely smirked triumphantly.

* * *

**Author's Note**–Okay, last chapter I said I was excited for this chapter. This isn't the chapter I was excited for. I decided to use that one a little later. I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter though; I originally had the whole, _believe in me_, part come in much later, so I'm not sure if this is too soon or not. Let me know if it's going too fast. 


	7. Birthdays and Better Days

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's world, not mine.

* * *

**

The atmosphere in the Paradise Lost never seemed to change. It was always the same familiar faces, drinking the same drinks as the day before. Just like any other night, Hermione went over to him.

"Good evening, Malfoy."

"What's got you so chipper tonight, Granger?" he asked glumly. She could tell wasn't in the best mood.

"Nothing. What's got you so depressed?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said, echoing her answer.

"Are you alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be alright, Granger? I've made it to another day of life—Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah," he snapped.

"Well," she said, taking a drink, "it _is _your birthday after all." Draco was shocked; the look on his face gave it away.

"How the _hell _did you know it's my birthday?" he asked, taken aback.

"Never mind that," she said. "I _figured _this wouldn't exactly be the best birthday you've ever had." He let out hollow laugh. She pulled out a small box from her bag and handed it to him.

"What's this?" he asked, accepting the box. She motioned for him to open it. Draco smiled when he saw the contents. Inside the box was a cupcake.

"You can't very well celebrate your birthday without a piece of cake now," she said. She placed a single candle on top of the cupcake and lit it with some matches from the bar. "Make a wish and blow it out." Draco looked at her for a minute and then blew out the candle. When he was done, he split the cupcake and gave Hermione half. "Happy birthday," she said as she raised her glass to his.

"Thank you, Granger," he said, clinking his glass with hers.

"You're very welcome." They each finished their drinks and Draco order another round from Paulie. "So," she said, brushing off the crumbs on the counter, "any wish for the coming year?"

"Better days," Draco said soberly.

"Pardon?"

"You asked me what I want this year? I want better days. Even a _chance _that we'll find better days would do it." He took another sip and looked back at her. "Tell me Granger—is Potter any closer to winning this war?"

"What do you—"

"You and I both know he's the only one that can end this thing. He's the only hope, and the Dark Lord knows it too." She didn't say anything for a while. Finally, she got up her courage and asked him the one thing she had been dying to know.

"Malfoy," she started, "what happened? Why did you leave the Death Eaters?" He didn't respond. "You said that you couldn't go back after what they did." He stiffened, remembering his own words. "Malfoy, what did they do?" He refused to look at her; slowly he brought his glass up to his lips, but the scotch never made it to his mouth. "Draco," it didn't feel strange using his first name. "What happened?" her voice was faint but sincere. "You can trust me, I promise." He closed eyes and sighed. Hermione knew he was struggling with himself. Draco threw his head back and downed the entire glass of scotch, then slammed it down on the counter and turned to her.

"You want to know what happened? What they did?" He took her silence as a sign to go on. "He killed them." Her stomach dropped. "To punish me, he killed them both." Hermione could see the pain in Draco's eyes. He shook his head. "It's all my fault. Because I couldn't—"

"Because you, a seventeen year-old boy, couldn't commit murder," she told him.

"Because I couldn't complete my task."

"It's not your fault," she tried to tell him.

"_The hell it isn't_! By not…" he couldn't even bring himself to say 'kill Dumbledore', "it was like casting the killing curse on them_myself_."

"That's just backwards logic!" she argued.

"That's just the way it happens. You weren't there, you didn't—"

She gasped and interrupted him, "_you were there_!" He nodded, ashamed. "But that's—"

"That's the consequence when you get yourself in too deep," he cut in sadly.

"I don't remember reading about any—"

"Well I highly doubt anyone knows they're…."

"Oh," she said, "I guess."

"I didn't even get to bury my parents," he said, clutching a new glass of scotch. "I guess I deserve it after everything I've done."

"No," she emphasized, "no one deserves that." She covered his hand with hers and went on, "it's the truth. Just because you wouldn't lower yourself to his level. He's a coward." He laughed in spite of himself and she went on. "He has everyone else doing his dirty work for him. He was always terrified of Professor Dumbledore, so he gets you to do it by threatening you. Did you _honestly _think you'd really be able to go through with it?"

"I tried to convince myself I could. I talked the talk for so long," he told her.

"You lowered your wand that night. You're not a killer and you know that. Hell, you knew it that day in the bathroom with Myrtle."

"How did you–oh, Potter told you about that then," he said looking ashamed. They sat in comfortable silence until Hermione spoke up.

"So after that you just…left?" He laughed at her question.

"No, Granger. I did not just leave. One does not just leave the Death Eaters, especially if you've failed your mission."

"So, how did you get out?" Hermione's curiosity overwhelmed her. She was just as bad as Crookshanks sometimes.

"Well, after they were..." he cleared his throat, "I was put in solitary confinement for further punishment."

"What!"

"Actually," he told her, "it wasn't as terrible as I thought it would be. It gave me time to think, time to reassess my life. I was in it to protect my family and that didn't work out. The longer I stayed there," he said, taking a drink, "the greater the chance I had of being killed, and I knew there was only one person who could help me."

"Snape?"

"Yes," he continued, "they let him down to see me. He gave me my wand back and told me which way to escape so the Death Eaters wouldn't catch me. We made it look like I attacked him; actually, I punched him right in the face," he said, "to make it look real, you see." As Draco paused to drink, Hermione couldn't help but think of what Snape's face had looked like after Draco had hit him. Snape had had a long, hooked nose; it must have gotten worse after that incident. "Then, I emptied out one of my family's vault's from Gringott's and exchanged it all for Muggle money. After that," he said, "I left."

"And what brought you here?" she asked him.

"The scotch," he replied.

She sighed. "No I meant–"

"I know what you meant, Granger," he smirked, "and I can't really say. I wandered around for a few days," he drank some more scotch. "I don't even know how I ended up here, really. I liked the area. It's nice and quiet. People seem friendly. I've got a flat down the street and enough money to live off of for the rest of my life be it five days, years, or decades."

"Well let's hope it's the latter," she told him. He couldn't help but smile at her sincerity.

"You know," he started, "Muggle technology is quite amazing. I never gave them enough credit." She laughed at his comment and went on, "I opened up an account at a Muggle bank when I settled down–that ATM machine is very handy."

"ATM," she corrected.

"That's what I said, ATM machine," he replied.

"No, no. ATM means Automated Teller Machine, so when you say ATM machine, you're saying Automated Teller Machine machine, which is redundant."

"Whatever you say, Granger."

* * *

They sat there enjoying each other's company for the next few hours until Hermione finally told him she needed to be getting home. After she got up and collected her things, Hermione kissed Draco on the cheek and hugged him, whispering a final "Happy Birthday" in his ear. She never thought being in Draco Malfoy's arms would feel so right. Slowly letting each other go, Hermione pressed a box into his hands and smiled. 

Hermione left the Paradise Lost that night, hoping Draco wouldn't eat all of his Chocolate Frogs at once. All that sugar was likely to give him a toothache. She laughed at herself as she walked home; she was _definitely _the child of two dentists. Hermione sighed as she thought about Draco and his parents. Witnessing their murder was traumatic enough, but being convinced it was his fault made it that much worse. Hermione would have to find a way to help him get through this.

* * *

**Author's Note**–This was the chapter I was excited for, so I hope you guys liked it! I finally gave you some answers and they had a 'moment' too (it's not too much too soon, is it?). I hope it's not getting too fluffy though. I can't really picture Hermione or Draco getting all mushy. I am trying to keep them true to their characters. I was hoping toget this up for Draco's real birthday which was last week according to J.K.R., but oh well. The whole ATM thing is a pet peeve of mine actually, and I think Hermione would be quick to point it out, so there you go. I'm not sure about the next chapter because I am still deciding which direction I want this fic to go. Let me know what you guys think! 


	8. Speaking Words of Wisdom

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's world, not mine.**

* * *

Since his birthday, Hermione had started using his first name–it just felt right. Hermione decided she rather liked the way _Draco_ seemed to roll off her tongue. Draco, of course, still called her _Granger_, but she didn't mind. Though he did like to tease her and called her _Two-Bits_ every so often, when she felt the need to give him her opinion on things he wasn't in the mood to hear.

After his birthday confession, Hermione tried to keep their meetings light; they'd talk about Healer training and she'd tell him stories of people who came into Saint Mungo's (Draco nearly choked on his scotch when she told him about the patient with the cactus growing out of his rear). They discussed Muggle books and movies a lot as well. Hermione was glad that Draco had grown to appreciate the world he grew up ostracizing.

She was also happy to find out that Draco didn't sit at the bar all day poisoning his liver. From what Hermione could tell, he'd get up, fix himself breakfast, work out (he was noticeably more muscular and not as thin and pale when they'd first started meeting each other), then he'd run errands and do whatever. Draco would spend the rest of the day reading Muggle literature, and watching television. Apparently, he watched his "stories" religiously. Hermione couldn't help but laugh at his enthusiasm for Muggle soap operas.

"So this guy raped this girl years ago, and then they fall madly in love and decide to get married," he explained to her one day, "but at the wedding, this older woman who hates the guy shows up, dressed in a turban, and puts a curse on them, but it's a Muggle curse!" he said rather amused. "It didn't do anything! So they drove off into the sunset together," he said with a wry smile as Hermione mumbled something about Professor Quirrell under her breath.

* * *

One evening Hermione arrived at the Paradise Lost as per usual and went over to Draco, though she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. 

"Good evening, Draco." The second Draco opened his mouth, Hermione's feeling was confirmed.

"Why hello there, Granger! I'm so glad you're here. Sit down and have a drink!" Draco was three-sheets to the wind already. Ever since they had started having drinks together, Hermione never saw him drunk; nowhere even close to it. Something was definitely wrong.

"Looks like I've some catching up to do," she said to him and picked up her drink.

"Oh Granger, Granger, Granger," he said, "I don't think so. I could drink you under the table _any_ day."

"Or counter," she replied, which made him nearly fall off of his stool doubled over in hysterical laughter.

"Touche!" he exclaimed. "That was good Granger. You know," he said finishing his glass, "I never would've thought you were funny. All those years in school you were so, _serious_," he said, making a "serious" face at her.

"Any reason why you decided to get drunk tonight?"

"Why not?" he replied.

"I mean tonight in particular," she clarified. His face hardened.

"I'm rebelling," he told her.

"Rebelling against what?" she asked.

"My old life," he said as he lifted up a fresh glass, "Cheers." He downed the entire glass and let out a long, refreshing, (annoying) "_Ah_". After he was done he turned to her. "Hey Granger, how come you always wear your hair back?" _Leave it up to an inebriated Draco Malfoy to bring up the subject of Hermione's hair_.

"It's easier to deal with when it's back and it's supposed to be out of my face for Healer training. Sterilization and all," she explained.

"Well, I think you should talk it down when you come here," he said, "I miss the bush." She rolled her eyes at him. "You know Granger, you're not the most glamourous,"

"Gee, thanks," she said stiffly.

"But nevertheless, you're quite beau–" he paused and proceeded to sneeze into his glass, spraying the contents on the counter and then dropped the glass on the floor. Draco sat there looking dumb (and drunk) while Hermione went to pick up the shards of glass. _Was he really going to say she was beautiful_? Hermione began racking her brain for other words that started or sounded like "beau" as she tried to clean up the glass.

"Dammit!" she yelled, shaking her hand.

"What's thematter?"

"Nothing." Draco was drunk, not blind, so he noticed the cut on her hand.

"You hurt yourself, Granger." She told him it was nothing. "You're bleeding," he pointed out as he held her bloody hand.

"It's just a flesh wound, I'm fine. Really Draco, I _am_ a Healer in training after all."

"Oh yeah," he seemed to forget that little tidbit but still didn't let go of her hand. Instead, he grabbed some napkins. Draco proceeded to clean the blood with much care and attention. He was very gentle and when he was finished, Draco kissed Hermione's hand. "All better now."

"Thank you, Draco." Hermione checked her watch. It was getting late, but it was a Friday so she didn't have training in the morning, which meant she could stay out late.Hermione didn't want to leave Draco there at the bar in his condition, but she didn't know where he lived. He had only mentioned that it was down the street; which way, she had not a clue.

Hermione sighed and got up. After she collected her things, she offered him her good hand. "Come on Draco, let's go." He took her hand without question as she led him outside until he stopped short.

"Wait, where're we going? The liquor's in there!" he said, pointing back to the Paradise Lost.

"You've had enough liquor, Draco. Let's go for a walk." He held her handand followed herdown the street. Perhaps if they wandered around long enough, they would somehow end up at his place and she could make sure he was alright before leaving him.

"Hey Granger, you like the Beatles?" he asked her.

"Yes."

"So do I. Though I must say, that is such a strange name for a band."

"I never thought about their name, Draco."

"I'll take you to see them," he told her, "just the two of us!"

"Draco, the Beatles don't play together anymore," she told him gently.

"What! Don't tell me they broke up!"

"Well," Hermione wasn't quite surehow to tell him that not every member of the Bealtes was currently living.She didn't have to say anything though, as Draco had begun to sing.

"_When I find myself in times of trouble, Her-mi-oh-ne drinks with me, speaking words of wisdom, let it beeeee_." He continued to butcher the words to _Let it Be_ as they walked. Finally, Hermione had had enough.

"Come on Draco, I'm taking you back to your flat." At this, he took the lead and pulled her down the street, only walking in a slight zig-zag. "Is this the way to your flat then?" she asked him. He assured her that it was. "Good because we need to get you to bed–"

"So we're _finally_ going to do it, eh Granger?" he said enthusiastically. Hermione froze but Draco kept on walking and she nearly tripped trying to keep up with him.

"What did you say?"

"We're finally going to have sex," he said as-a-matter-of-factly. "It's about damn time, all this sexual tension between us in the past."

"That's _not_ what I meant when I said 'get you into bed.'"

He paid her no attention. "We can even play Healer and patient if you're into that sort of thing Granger," he smiled with a twinkle in his eye. "I must say, I've wondered about you," he told her, "_more than once_."

* * *

**Author's Note**–That's a good place to end it, don't you guys think? Sorry it took me so long to update, I wasn't feeling too well last week.Then it took me a few days to actually upload this onto the site. The next chapter will hopefully be up early next week. I started out this fic intending it to be a Drama, but right now I think I am leaning more towards Romantic Comedy. Let me know what you guys think. Is it too much? 


	9. Spoon Your Way To Health

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's world, not mine

* * *

**

"We're finally going to have sex," he said as-a-matter-of-factly. "It's about damn time, all this sexual tension between us in the past."

"That's _not_ what I meant when I said 'get you into bed.'"

He paid her no attention. "We can even play Healer and patient if you're into that sort of thing Granger," he smiled with a twinkle in his eye. "I must say, I've wondered about you," he told her, "_more than once_."

"Oh my–"

"Here we are!" he said as they stopped at a door. Draco fumbled around his pockets for his keys. They were in his left pants pocket but he was having some trouble. Finally, Hermione got so annoyed she reached into his pocket and took them out for him.

"You _are_ eager to get into my pants, eh Granger?" he said as he tried to unlock the door. He jiggled the key into the door for a while and finally managed to get the damn thing open. Before she knew it, Hermione was pulled inside Draco's flat.

She stood there looking around for a moment until she found his lips crashing down onto hers. It was a sloppy, drunken kiss, and yet for some reason, Hermione just couldn't bring herself to pull back. Draco finally broke the kiss, much to Hermione's relief, as she had started running out of air. _The man has excellent lung capacity_.

After he caught his breath, Draco swooped in for another round but Hermione managed to pull back before he could reach her. Unfortunately for Hermione, she tripped and fell back onto the couch a few feet away. Draco took this as the perfect opportunity, and the next thing Hermione knew, he was on top of her.

He kissed her neck tenderly and Hermione couldn't lie, it felt good. But there was no way she would let it go any further than drunken kissing. Hermione had drawn the line when Draco started blowing in her ear.

"Draco, _what _are you_ doing_!"

"Seducing you," was his simple reply, as he went back to her ear until she stopped him.

"Well don't. You are _not _seducing me, we are _not _going to sleep together, and we_ most certainly are not _playing Healer/Patient!"

"But why not?" he asked dejectedly.

"Why not? Because you're _pissed drunk_, that's why!"

"Oh, I don't care about that," he told her.

"Well I am not going to sleep with you in that condition," she told him firmly. He was still on top of her, but she wasn't uncomfortable which was good, because Draco made no effort to get off of her.

"Ooooh, I get it!" he said, "You're afraid that my _performance _won't be up to par because I've had a little too much to drink." _Only Draco Malfoy_! "Shall we just reschedule for another time then?"

"I don't thi–"

"What is it you want, Granger?" he asked her, "What is it you want? You want the moon? Just say the word, and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down."

"You've been watching too many old movies," she told him.

"You didn't answer my question."

"What I want is for you to get off of me so I don't die of asphyxiation!" Hermione yelled. Draco finally got it and rolled off of Hermione. He was laying next to her now, so that Hermione was sandwiched in between Draco and the back of the couch. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place (or a sofa and a drunk if you will). Draco was making himself comfortable and Hermione didn't move when he draped his arm over her waist. "You are gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow morning."

"Don't worry about it, I'll take something."

"Oh of course, a little aspirin will make it all go away."

"Hey Granger, where can I acquire some Vitameatavegamin?" _Where does he come up with this stuff_?

"Draco Vitameatavegamin isn't real," she explained.

"Yes it is! I saw it on the television."

"I'm sure you did but–"

"Hello Friends, I'm your Vitameatavegamin girl. Are your tired? Run down? Listless?"

"Draco–"

"Do you poop out at parties? Are you unpopular? The answer to all of your problems is in this little bottle."

"There's no such–"

"Vitameatavegamin. Yes, Vitameatavegamin contains vitamins, meat, vegetables, and minerals. Yes, with Vitameatavegamin you can _spoon _your way to health."

"Draco it's not–"

"All you do is take a big tablespoonful after every meal. It's so tasty, too. Tastes just like candy. So why don't you join the thousands of happy peppy people and get a great big bottle of Vitameatavegamin tomorrow. That's Vita-meata-vegamin," he finished, complete with the wink.

"Alright Draco, we'll get you some Vitameatavegamin tomorrow."

"Perfect. Then we can have sex."

"Well, as long as we have a plan," she said sarcastically. The sarcasm was lost on Draco though.

"Do you like the night time, Granger?"

"I suppose so."

"I like the night time," he told her. "For a dreamer, the night's the only time of day."

"Are you a dreamer, Draco?" she asked him.

"I used to be," he sighed. He then started to belt out the song (_Night Time Is_) _The Right Time_, by Ray Charles, _badly_. "Do I love you? No one above you, hold me tight," at which he did indeed, hold her tighter. "And make everything all right, because the night time, is the right time, to be with the one you love now." When he was done he kissed her on the cheek, still holding her a little tighter than when they started.

"Draco, are you alright?" she asked.

"I feel Fine, Granger."

"Well, then I should probably get going. It's getting late you know." Draco, instead held her closer.

"Don't," he told her, looking straight into her eyes. He was slightly panicked. "Don't leave me. Please," he begged her. "I can't lose you too."

"Draco, you're not going to lose me," she assured him, "I promise."

"That's exactly what she said too and look what happened."

"She?"

"She didn't deserve to die. My father chose this life. I chose this life," he said, "but _she _didn't. She didn't chose any of it!" _His mother, of course_. "She should have been here, with me, today!"

"Today?"

"It was always just the two of us. The house-elves would pack us food and we'd have her birthday lunch on the grounds of the manor, while father was out. And then once he got home, he'd whisk her off for an evening out, but she always said the best part of her birthday was lunch with me."

The tears were slowly streaming down his face and Hermione wanted nothing more than to brush them away, but didn't. He _needed _to let it out. "And now she's gone and it's all my fault and I can't do a damn thing about it." Hermione laid there next to him, his arms around hers as he cried into her shoulder. She didn't say anything; she didn't know what she could say to make it better. "I can't lose you too. You're all I have left. Before you walked into that bar I was waiting to die, but then you gave me a reason. Please, _Hermione_, I need you."

"I'm not going anywhere, Draco. I promise," she said as she stroked his hair back. Moments later Draco fell asleep in Hermione's arms. She laid there holding him, think about the phrase _in vino veritas_ until she too, fell asleep.

* * *

Surprisingly enough, Draco was the first to wake up the next morning. His stirring had awoken Hermione as well. When she opened her eyes, she found a puzzled Draco Malfoy staring down at her.

"Granger?" he said holding a hand to his temple. "What are you doing here?" Hermione thought about it for a minute.

"What," she said with a shocked look. "You mean you don't remember?" she asked him. "And here you said I was special." Draco was clearly taken aback at her words. The realization in his face was too much and Hermione could barely take it.

"You, you, you, mean, we, you, _you and I_, both," he stammered, "last night?"

"No, actually, we didn't thanks to me." Hermione could tell he was relieved and didn't know whether to feel insulted or not.

"So what did happen?"

"Well, you kissed me, badly I might add, got on top of me when I fell on the couch and blew in my ear. I refused to have sex with you and then when I tried to leave–"

"When you tried to leave, what?" he asked her curiously.

"When I tried to leave," she said, "I was worried about you so I just decided to stay and make sure you woke up alright this morning." Hermione wasn't quite sure why she didn't tell him the truth.

"So all we did was kiss then?" By now they were both sitting up on the couch.

"Yes." He thought about this for a minute.

"But I was drunk?"

"Very."

"And you didn't stop me?" he asked.

"We didn't have sex!" she yelled at him.

"No, I mean, you didn't stop me from kissing you." Hermione face turned slightly red.

"You were quite determined." He held up an eyebrow.

"I can't believe you, Granger," he said, shaking his head at her.

"What!"

"You took advantage of me," he said with a wicked smirk and a twinkle in his eye.

"_I did no such thing_!" Hermione exclaimed. _How insulting_!

"Yeah, yeah, say what you will Granger. You and I both know the truth; can't say that I blame you, really."

"Draco Malfoy you are by far the–"

"Best night you ever _nearly _had."

* * *

**Author's Note**–I got such great responses from the last chapter I was really anxious to get this one up. I started writing it and it just flowed. I think it's one of the funnier chapters so far, but there is still that little bit of drama. I wish there was a 'Romantic Dramedy' category, because I'm pretty sure that's where this one fits. If I get too fluffy let me know because I really do try to keep Draco and Hermione as in character as possible. 


	10. Of Harry's Breakdown

**Disclaimer–J.K. Rowling's world, not mine.

* * *

**

Annoyance. Anger. Frustration. Embarrassment. Those were just some of things Hermione felt as she Aparated home from Draco's flat. Crookshanks was there waiting eagerly and gave her a curious, "where and with whom have you been all night, Missy" look.

"_Don't_ give me that," she told him as she went into the kitchen. Hermione started fixing herself a cup of tea when Crookshanks meowed. Her neglected cat was sitting next to his empty food dish. "Oh, Crookshanks, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to forget you," she tried to explain to him. Presently, Hermione replenished her cat's bowl and went back to the boiling water on the stove. Once her tea was made, Hermione sat down at the table with the morning edition of_ The Daily Prophet_. She was interrupted by Crookshanks again, but this time he merely hopped up onto her lap where he sat contentedly as she read her newspaper.

Crookshanks' purring was disturbed when Hermione took the cat in her arms and brought him into her bedroom. She let him down on the bed as she kicked off her shoes. She then joined Crookshanks on the unslept in bed. Hermione let out a yawn and Crookshanks meowed at her once more. With a sigh, Hermione told him what happened the night before. For some reason, once she was done, she felt relief that she had told him. It's not like she could have gone to Harry or Ron about her situation with Draco.

"He misses his mum. It was so sad to see him like that," she said as she stroked the feline. "Then again, he did think I took advantage of him. _The nerve_! I would never do something like that, Crookshanks." She scratched him behind the ears and continued, "you know, he would be so lucky if someone like me were to, well, you know, _get involved _with him." Crookshanks then started licking her fingers and soon enough Hermione had fallen asleep.

* * *

Hermione was awakened only by the sound of someone coming through the Floo Network. She jumped off her bed leaving adisturbed Crookshanks and rushed to her fireplace.

"Hermione! Where are you?"

"Harry, I'm right here. No need to shout," she said as she approached the fireplace.

"Oh, are you busy?" he asked her.

"Not really," she responded.

"Good, then I'm coming through." Harry gave her no time to respond. As soon as she stepped back from the fireplace, Harry was coming out of it. Before Harry could traipse ash into her flat, Hermione cast a quick cleansing spell, and invited Harry in.

"So, Harry, what's going on?" she asked him as they took a seat on the couch. She always knew when something was bothering Harry.

"I went to Godric's Hollow last night," he sighed. Hermione's heart went out to him. She knew Harry liked to go there by himself occasionally looking for closure but never finding it.

"What happened?" she asked him.

"I found something," Harry said as Crookshanks jumped up on his lap.

"What was it?"

"I was walking in the woods were my parents' house was and I tripped and fell. And when I got up I noticed this tree in front of me. It's dead," he explained as he stroked Crookshanks, "but there was something on it. JP + LE was carved in a heart on this tree. I just," he let out a sigh, "broke down."

"Oh, Harry."

"I'm glad I found it though," he said quickly. "I went back there to think about them and then I find something that was theirs. It's like they were leading me to it, telling me that they're still with me." Harry smiled to himself and looked over to Hermione. He eyed her curiously for a minute and furrowed his brow. "Aren't those the same clothes you were wearing yesterday?" Hermione looked down at her clothes. Yes, they were. Of course, she didn't change when she got home that morning and fell right asleep.

"Yes," she said nervously, "they are."

"Why are you wearing yesterday's clothes, Hermione?"

"I beg your pardon?" she asked him, trying to buy herself some time.

"I said, _Why. Are. You. Wearing. Yesterday's. Clothes?_" he emphasized.

"Oh!" Hermione said shaking her head, "I was in the mood for a Frappuccino and I couldn't wait until I got up and showered, so I just threw on yesterday's clothes and ran to Starbucks earlier." Crookshanks meowed at her, but Harry and seemed to buy it. What was she supposed to say? _Well you see Harry, the thing is, I spent the night at Draco Malfoy's flat_. No that definitely wouldn't have gone over well. They sat there in comfortable silence for a while until Hermione let out a yawn.

"I thought you went for coffee this morning?" Harry asked her suspiciously.

"I did."

"Then why are you yawning? You look exhausted."

"I look exhausted because I had a long week at the hospital and I didn't get much sleep last night. As for my coffee," she told it, "it was decaf."

"Since when do you drink decaffeinated coffee?" Harry snorted. He knew Hermione was nothing without her caffeine buzz in the morning.

"Well, it's better for you," she said, "and besides, it's not like I have anything of importance to do today. I'm not going to be running around the hospital. I was just going to relax."

"Well, in that case I'll leave you to it," Harry said as he scooted Crookshanks off his lap and got up.

"No, Harry I didn't meant it like–"

"I know, but I've got some things to do before the meeting tomorrow anyway. I just really wanted to come over and tell you about the tree. You do the whole, 'feelings' thing better than Ron. I mean, I'll tell him about it and he's supportive and all, but you just, _get it_." Hermione couldn't help but smile as she walked Harry over to the fireplace.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Harry," she said as he stepped into the fireplace.

Harry turned around, "you know, too bad I was never a Legilimens."

"Why's that, Harry?" she asked him.

He gave her a cheeky smile that could have rivaled Draco's. "Because I have a feeling there's something going on with you that you're not telling me. It's _probably_ the reason why you're in your clothes from yesterday, why you weren't here _last night _when I Floo'd you, and why you seem a bit distracted lately." Hermione's face reddened and she opened her mouth to explain to Harry. "Hermione it's okay. Just remember," Harry said, "_I'm _not the one who had a problem with Krum and McLaggen. Whatever or _whoever _it is, don't feel like you need to hide it from me." And with that, he was gone.

"Oh Harry," Hermione sighed to the now empty fireplace, "you have _no_ idea."

* * *

**Author's Note**–I am so sorry for not updating sooner! I have a laundry list of excuses included but not limited to: partial writer's block, work, the celebration of my birthday last weekend, a spontaneous trip down the shore Friday night, two graduation parties, and late showing of POTC last night. Right now I am nursing sunburn but as I have been so neglectful these past two weeks, I really wanted to give you guys _something_. I'll be honest, this is really just a filler chapter and I'm not too crazy about it. Someone asked where Harry and Ron went and I kept on putting off including them in the last few chapters. Honestly, I hate writing for any character that isn't Draco or Hermione; I feel like I can't quite capture them. The next chapter will be up soon, seeing as I've got my momentum back. Now, this AN has officially gone on too long so, thanks for your patience and thanks for reading. Let me know what you guys think. 


	11. Hermoninny's Too Good For Them

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's world, not mine.

* * *

**

She had no choice. Hermione _had _to meet Draco for drinks tonight. If she didn't show up, it would have made her look like a coward. And why should _she _be nervous anyway? _He's _the one who got drunk and spilled his guts to her the night before.

Why is it that all of the men in Hermione's life just couldn't quite pull it together? Draco was hiding out in the Muggle world drinking and watching entirely too much television, Harry was spending his evenings alone in Godric's Hollow, and Ronald . . . well, no further explanation needed there. When had Hermione's life gotten so crazy? Oh, that's right; when that owl delivered her Hogwarts letter. Of course, she would have it no other way, _but still_.

* * *

Hermione arrived at her normal time. Draco was there in his usual spot with his head in his hand. He looked as if he was nursing a severe migraine. _Serves him right for getting so drunk_. Tonight, there was no drink waiting for Hermione. She also noticed that Draco wasn't on his fourth or fifth glass of scotch either. She greeted him and then ordered an Amaretto Sour, receiving a questioning look from Draco.

"What's that?" he asked her.

"Amaretto Sour," she told him.

"I thought you liked Whiskey Sours?"

"I thought you liked Scotch?" she echoed.

Draco thought about it before taking a drink, "I liked it a lot better before yesterday," he said as he held a hand up to his forehead.

"Well that's what you get for overdoing it," she said as-a-matter-of-factly.

He put his hand up (the one that wasn't holding his head up) to stop her. "Granger, please, don't give me any grief," he sighed. "Is there anything in the Muggle world that can cure this?"

"Try some aspirin," she told him.

"I did already, and it didn't help."

"What's that you're drinking?" she asked him.

"Ginger ale."

"Well that'll settle your stomach at least."

"Yeah, that's what Paulie said too," he said taking a long drink. "What's that?" he asked her, pointing to the bandage on her hand.

"A little souvenir from last night."

He furrowed his brow. "What happened?"

"You dropped your glass on the floor and when I went to pick it up I cut myself."

"Are you all right?" he asked her with concern in his voice.

"Yes. You actually cleaned up my hand for me." That made him smirk and he took another drink of ginger ale.

"So Granger, apart from a snogfest, what else happened last night?" The color rose in her cheeks and Hermione turned away from him.

"Well, you told me how much you liked the Beatles and that you wanted the two of us to go see them sometime."

"And what did you say?"

"Well, I didn't have the heart to tell you last night that the Beatles not only have broken up, but are not all alive. Ergo, they won't be doing performances anytime soon." The news seemed to get him down.

"What a pity," he shook his head.

"You started quoting _I Love Lucy_ and_ It's a Wonderful Life_."

"Really?"

"Yes, you went on and on about acquiring Vitameatavegamin."

"Oh yes, I was watching that Lucy episode a few days ago. That is pure comedy right there, Granger," he said stifling a laugh.

"Yes, I'm familiar with Lucy's antics."

"I really like the one where she and Ethel go on that tour around Hollywood and she steals the grapefruit from that actor's yard. What was his name?"

"Richard Widmark."

"Yes that's it!" he said as he finished the rest of his ginger ale. "Oh, and I also liked the one where she and Ethel get that meat freezer, and Lucy locks herself in it. Could have used an Alohamora there."

"Yes, that's a good one too. I like the ones in Europe the best though."

"Well those are funny too. Like the one where they are leaving for Europe on the boat but Lucy gets left and has to take a helicopter. Or where they're coming home and she disguises the cheese as a baby." At this point, each of them had started cracking up.

Once they had calmed themselves down a bit, Hermione told Draco that he watched too much television–a comment that he merely brushed off.

"So, Granger, how was it?"

"How was what?" she asked him, taking a drink.

"The kiss." Caught so off guard, Hermione very nearly choked on her drink and started coughing. Draco slapping her back really didn't help matters either. Once he saw that she was all right, he went on. "Kisses, really. More than one," he winked.

"Draco . . . "

"That bad huh?" She started to laugh and shook her head. "Well, Granger," he cleared his throat, "I just wanted you to know that you shouldn't judge me by that."

"What?"

"Well, I was drunk and I imagine, a sloppy kisser, which couldn't have been all that nice for you. So I just wanted you to know that last night wasn't my best work, and you shouldn't judge my kisses on that and that alone," he explained, "_I can do better_."

"I should hope so," she said smugly. "You know, it's a good thing you haven't got a telephone or anyone to call. I imagine you would be a drunk dialer."

"A what?"

"When a person gets drunk and rings up someone and goes on and on, talking and saying things they normally wouldn't–"

"Like what?" Draco interrupted in a concerned voice. "Granger, what did I tell you?" She looked away but he seemed to know the answer. "I told you, didn't I? What yesterday was?" She turned back to him but now Draco was the one looking away. "Granger," he sighed, "I'm sorry I shouldn't have–"

"Draco, don't. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"Except for this Dark Mark on my arm?"

"You have no reason to be ashamed of _caring for your mother_. It means you're human and that somewhere inside, you do indeed, have a heart." He let out a dry laugh. "You miss her, and you have every right to." He nodded but didn't say anything. "I never would have thought you had such a loving relationship with your mother. It's not a side of you many people get to see." He smiled as they sat in comfortable silence for a while.

"So did I do anything else humiliating?" he finally asked.

"Aside from butchering the words to _Let It Be_, and singing (_Night Time Is_) _The Right Time_?"

"Did I _really_?" he asked.

"Yes on both accounts–in fact the part where you sang 'hold me tight' you did hold me tighter."

"Where was I holding you?"

"I fell back onto your couch and you . . . "

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"So that's how we ended up on the couch, eh?"

"Yes."

"Were you, er, okay sleeping? I didn't crush you, did I?"

"No, it wasn't too bad actually. You wedged me between the cushion and yourself, and you didn't snore." Draco started to laugh.

"Can you imagine, Granger? What people would say if you told them you spent the night with me?"

"Well you definitely wouldn't be laughing if Harry and Ron found out."

"So you still haven't told them then?" She shook her head and ate her maraschino cherry. "I thought you told them everything?" he asked her. Hermione made a face.

"No, Draco, I definitely don't tell them _everything_."

"So what else do you hide from them?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"Well, guys in general was always a sensitive issue with the two of them. Ron, especially. To this day I think he still holds a grudge with Cormac."

"I think Hell officially froze over, Granger, because I happen to agree with the Weasel on that one. McLaggen was, is, and always will be a _ponce_."

"You think so?"

"I _know _so," he assured her. "Trust me on this Granger, you're far too good for him." Hermione hid her smile behind her glass. "Tell me, do you still talk to Krum?"

"Occasionally," she said.

"Hermione Granger, smartest witch in the whole of Hogwarts, and Viktor 'Rocks-For-Brains' Krum. That one came out of nowhere as well." This got Hermione angry.

"Oh so you're trying to say–" but before she could finish he interrupted her.

"No, Granger, I don't mean it like _that_. What I mean is that you're a girl who needs a bloke with substance. Someone you can converse with intelligently, and Krum . . . as I recall, he couldn't even pronounce your name, _Hermoninny_." She sat back and rolled her eyes at him. "And Weasel, don't even get me started on him."

"Ron and I are just friends," she told him.

"As it should be. I mean, think about it. He was burping up slugs after he tried to hex me."

"Yes, I remember," Hermione said with an ounce of sadness in her voice. It took him a minute to realize why exactly Ron tried to hex him in the first place.

"Oh," he shifted uncomfortably, "yes well," he cleared his throat, "look where it got me now, eh?" he said as if trying to cheer her up. "I don't say it anymore, you know."

"I know."

"It would be a little hypocritical of me."

"Hello Pot, this is the Kettle calling . . . "

"I mean, I'm practically a Muggle as it is," he said with a wry smile. "If only the Dark Lord could see me know," he said with a dry laugh. Hermione too, let out a hollow chuckle and checked her watch. She was tired and she didn't get much sleep the night before.

"Well, I suppose I should go. Busy Sunday tomorrow and all," she said, knowing he would understand that she needed to ready herself for the Order meeting the next day.

"Hey Granger," he reached for her arm to stop her as she went to leave. "He's planning something big," he looked down at his arm where they both knew the Dark Mark was.

"You can feel it, can't you?" He nodded and assured her.

"If I knew–"

"I know," she told him. She was certain Draco would tell her if he knew anything. "I should go. I'll see you tomorrow." And with that, she was gone.

* * *

Hermione rushed back into the pub seconds later with a concerned and frighted look on her face as she ran back to Draco, who still sat at the bar with a glass of ginger ale.

"Draco, we need to get out of here. There're Death Eaters outside."

* * *

**Author's Note–**Good place to end it, right?I wasn't really crazy about these last two chapters but it'll get more interesting from here, I promise. I've been really busy at work the past week but things should be getting back to normal now, so hopefully I'll be able to update biweekly like I used to. I think it's funny that a lot of people make Hermione their Mary Sue (is that the term? I think so.) and I really try to avoid that, but then Draco just so happens to like the same television shows, movies, and books as me. Hopefully it's still in character though, and if I deviate too much, _please_, let me know! Again, thanks for reading. You guys are so sweet and encouraging, it makes me want to get up the next chapter that much faster. 


	12. Mariner's Cove and a Moonlight Sonata

**Author's Note: J.K. Rowling's world, not mine.

* * *

**

She knew he had heard her, but he didn't move. Hermione crouched down and held his shoulders as she looked him right in the eyes. "Draco, listen to me, we need to get out of here right now." There was panic in her voice, mostly because of the Death Eaters, but also because when she looked into Draco's eyes, she could see nothing but fear. "Come on, Draco, we have to leave," she said with urgency. She pulled him off his stool and the words finally seemed to get through.

"Did they see you? Are you okay?"

"They didn't see me, at least I'm pretty sure and yes, I'm fine," she told him. He took a deep breath and called Paulie over. Draco reached into his pocket and threw down a large stack of bills. "If anyone asks, Paulie, we were never here."

"Who was never here, sir?" Draco nodded at the bartender and took hold of Hermione's hand as they made their way to the back of the pub.

"We should Apparate from the lavatory. I'm the only woman who ever comes in here and I think it's far enough away so they won't here us," Hermione said.

"Where are we going once we Apparate? We need a plan. We can't just Apparate somewhere willy-nilly and hope they don't find us." Draco was keeping an eye out as they entered the women's restroom. Everything was clear.

"I have an idea. We'll have to Apparate to my flat first, and then go by Floo."

"Do you reckon your flat is safe?" he asked her, still clasping her hand. She assured him that it was, as Hermione had Moody help her put up a ward, in case such a situation arose (she'd thank Merlin everyday of her life for Moody's "Constant Vigilance" teachings). Without thinking, Hermione put her arms securely around Draco and Apparated them to her flat. Crookshanks didn't seem to care that Hermione had brought home someone, as he just went back to sleep on the couch when they appeared. She brought Draco right over to the fireplace and took out the Floo powder from a pot (shaped like a tooth) on the mantle. Hermione passed him the powder.

"Floo to 'Mariner's Cove'. I'll be right behind you," she said, shoving him into the fireplace.

* * *

Hermione came out of the fireplace at Mariner's Cove ungracefully, though Draco was there to catch her fall. As she cleaned them up, Hermione noticed Draco looking around curiously.

"So what is this place?" he asked her.

"It was an inn on the coast of Devon, which is where we are by the way" she explained, "my uncle owned and ran it. He didn't have any kids so when he died a few years ago it went to my parents, but they're dentists so they just closed it up after the season and we'd used it as a summer holiday house. No one really comes here anymore."

"Why not?"

"My parents are busy working, I've always been busy with school, then training at the hospital."

"And you're sure we're safe here?" he asked her, though he didn't seem frightened.

"No one knows about this place, not even Harry or Ron. Just my parents, me, and now you," she emphasized. "Come on," she said grabbing his arm, "you can pick out a bedroom. You're going to be here for a while." Hermione led Draco upstairs to a hallway with many doors. She smiled as she remembered their _Alice in Wonderland _conversation about the hall of doors. It seemed so long ago now.

"There're several rooms for you to choose but not this one," she pointed as they passed a closed door, "that one's mine. But might I recommend the one next door, there's a lovely view of the shore." He nodded and let Hermione lead him into the room.

It was a decent sized room in a pale blue shade with a large canopy style bed. The sheer hangings were pulled back, displaying a very comfortable looking place to sleep. At the end of the bed was a large trunk that doubled as a bench, and a writing desk and hutch combined sat in the corner of the room. There were large windows complete with two layers of curtains, one of dark blue pulled back and another layer of sheers under it, letting in the remainder of the days sunlight. Hermione's modest description of the view was just that, modest. From the balcony, you could see the shore for what seemed like miles and could easily get lost in the sounds of the ocean.

Hermione let Draco take in the view for a minute. He'd had a long day and needed peace of mind. _That's another good thing about the shore_, Hermione thought. It seemed like no matter how bad life had gotten you, everything was okay when you were at the shore; you could watch the water wash away footprints in the sand and erase all the bad things that happened so far, because tomorrow was a new and better day. She watched Draco look out over the balcony at the last few rays of sunlight and couldn't help but wish she was a Legilimens. A million thoughts must have been running through his mind.

"Draco?" Hermione called, taking him out of his daze. She led him back into the bedroom, "so there's the bath, and the fireplace which are all connected by Floo Network," she pointed out, "though I don't really think you should be going anywhere."

"Where have I got to go, Granger?" he asked sympathetically.

"Well, in any case, if you thought to go back to your flat for anything I should say that it's not a good idea."

"No, Granger," he said wandering about the room, "I don't think I can ever go back to my flat." He sighed, "what a pity. I really did like it there."

"Well," Hermione said trying to find words to comfort him, "I didn't mean it like that. Just that, er, it's probably not safe to go there now if you wanted to get some of your things and all. After this mess is over you can go back there, or you could find somewhere else to live, or you could travel for a while and be a nomad or something. See different places in the Muggle world."

"Granger, do you always babble when you're nervous?" he asked her with a genuine smile she didn't think he was capable of showing in a time like this.

"Yes," she said as the color in her cheeks rose. Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest and let her eyes wander around the room. "Well, I guess I'll leave you alone. I'll be in my room next door if you need anything."

* * *

Hermione left Draco who went back to staring out of the balcony. She couldn't help but wonder if he had ever been to the shore before. If so, he certainly didn't stay out in the sun very long. Hermione couldn't get Draco off her mind, but that was nothing new. She plopped down on her bed and thought about what was bothering her most. Were the Death Eaters at the pub for Draco or Hermione? Or perhaps they were there for both of them. Was it coincidence or merely bad luck that she had seen them before whatever plan they had was put into action. Maybe they weren't going to make a move tonight at all? Was it a reconnaissance mission? Worst of all, what would she do about this situation tomorrow at the Order meeting?

After a minute, Hermione got off the bed and went to her desk. She made a list of all the questions in her head. As she wrote, she heard a knock at the door. Hermione continued to write and told Draco to come in.

"Don't even look up to make sure it's really me? Granger, I could have been a Death Eater!" She smiled and wrote on.

"I recognize your footsteps. You have a distinctive walk. Even in times like these you have that strut about you. Sit down," she told him, "I'm almost done."

"Done with what?" he asked taking a seat on the trunk at the end of her bed. Her room was set up almost exactly as Draco's, only Hermione's had personal touches. Her choice of color on the walls, a blanket from home on her bed, some of her favorite books on the night stand and desk, and photographs (that didn't move) spread all about the room.

"I'm making a list," she answered.

"Ah, say no more," he replied. She was nearly done with her list when Draco spoke again. "I never would have reckoned you a purple kind of person, Granger." Hermione smiled as she finished her list.

"It's light lavender, actually, and it's soothing. When I was younger, I'd lay in bed at night with the windows open and fall asleep to the sounds of the ocean," she explained. "I'm sorry," she said shaking her head, "you wanted something," she said, not realizing that he had come in to see her with purpose.

"Yes, well, I was just wondering if–" Draco hesitated.

"Yes?"

"Um, nothing, forget it," he said, "It's not important." Draco went to leave but Hermione stopped him, coercing him to join her for a cup of tea downstairs. She had more of the house to show him anyway. Hermione gave him the tour as she led him downstairs and showed him the formal sitting area where not much sitting went on (one of those 'off limits' places; mums always have one somewhere). She showed him the dining room and the kitchen where she prepared tea for the two of them.

* * *

There wasn't much food in the kitchen but Draco told Hermione that he was perfectly capable of going to get food in the morning. Hermione insisted that it would be better if she went, as he had no idea where the store was. It was only once they had finished their tea did they decide that tomorrow morning they would go food shopping together. She also told Draco that she'd be staying at Mariner's Cove as well, for the time being, as she was unsure whether her flat was being watched.

"Well I think that's a good idea," he told her as they left the kitchen together, "but what'll you tell everyone?"

"I think it best to just tell them that I'm getting it painted or something the Muggle way, and that I need to stay with my parents for a while. They won't begrudge my staying with them, and I can just as easily Floo to the hospital from here."

"What about that cat of yours?"

"Crookshanks'll be all right for a day or two. I'll bring him back here eventually. Come on," she said, leading him to the other end of the house. "This is the library."

It was a very large room indeed, that must have taken up nearly half of the house downstairs. Bookshelves spanned almost every wall, and were each completely filled. There were several couches and chairs spread out; a cluster near the fireplace, a chair in the corner, a rocker near the windows. "You're free to come here whenever you want. You won't find any Wizard texts though, but there's probably every Muggle classic you can think of and a lot more. They're all in alphabetical order by author. Took me a week to get these all organized," she said sheepishly.

"And there's the piano," Hermione said, pointing to the one place on the wall where there were no bookshelves. She went over to the piano leaving Draco in his spot. She hit a key and listened for the sound. "My father had it tuned last year, but I was never really much of a pianist. My fingers always got sore after doing scales over and over, so now the thing just sits here collecting dust." Draco didn't say anything but perused the book selection. Hermione yawned to herself and looked at her watch. It was getting late.

"Well, your bathroom is stocked with a toothbrush and toiletries under the sink. And there should be some pajamas hanging in there as well," she said. "My parents like to keep the place prepared for guests."

"Thanks, Granger," he said, "for everything."

"You're welcome. Good night, Draco."

"Good night."

* * *

Hermione yawned again as she made her way upstairs to her room. She readied herself for bed and changed into her pajamas, falling asleep the instant her head hit the pillow. She woke up at 1:14 in the morning and got out of bed. Hermione went out into the hallway where Draco's door was open. She peeked inside his room only to discover it empty. Keeping her wits about her, Hermione went downstairs to the last place she saw him. She made her way down the stairs and to the library, as something guided her way. There, in the moonlight, was Draco Malfoy playing Mozart's _Moonlight Sonata_. She recognized the tune instantly and stood there listening to him play. It was a bit of a melancholy song; Hermione had always thought so. She crept into the room, going unnoticed by Draco who was absorbed in the music. Hermione lay quietly on one of the sofas and listened to the bittersweet song, closing her eyes for only a moment. When she opened them, the sun was beaming on her face and a blanket was covering her from the cool breeze of the ocean.

* * *

**Author's Note**–I know, I know, I promised more frequent updates and I _meant _to update sooner, but this is a longer chapter than the previous ones. Honestly, I had the beginning of this chapter planned and the very end. I just couldn't figure out something for the middle and eventually this came to me (and I changed the ending of the chapter too, and I like this one a lot better). I'm not sure when I'll update again (I'm aiming for mid next week, but don't hold me to that!) since I am heading down the shore (yes the shore, I'm from Jersey, that's what we call it) in the middle of next week. Thanks for bearing with me keeps and for the encouraging words. I did kind of feel bad leaving you guys on a cliff hanger for so long, hopefully you don't mind where I ended this one. 


	13. Food Shopping and an Order Meeting

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's world, not mine.**

Hermione had slept well. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had a good night's sleep like that, a feat in and of itself considering what happened the day before. She stretched on the couch and pulled the blanket closer to her body, shielding her from the cool breeze of the ocean. After she had fallen asleep last night, Draco must have covered her with the blanket and opened the doors. Was it because she told him how much she liked to sleep with the doors open when she was little? At any rate, Hermione was grateful for his gesture.

She got up and folded the blanket back up, setting it back in its place over the couch. Hermione left the library and decided to make some tea before getting ready for the day. It was Sunday, and she never did get herself prepared for the Order meeting that night. Hermione also needed to run to her parents house as well, and let them know what was going on with her. They should know that she would be staying at Mariner's Cove for the time being.

Hermione walked into the kitchen (still in her pajamas) to find Draco already there.

"Morning," he said as she walked over to him. Draco handed her a cup of coffee which she took gratefully and sat down at the table. Hermione held the warm cup in her hands for a minute before taking a drink.

"Where," she asked, "did you learn to make such good coffee?" He smirked and she rolled her eyes and took another long swig.

"You learn things quickly when you're on your own, Granger," he said drinking some coffee from his own mug. "Are you hungry? There isn't much food around here but I can make you something." Hermione nearly choked on her coffee and it was Draco's turn to roll his eyes. "Yes Granger, I can cook for myself! I'm still alive aren't I? Well, _partly_ thanks to you and all, _but even before then _it's not like I poisoned myself with my own cooking. Actually," he said, "if you can believe it, I actually kind of enjoy cooking. It relaxes me."

"Interesting. I learn more about you everyday."

"Yes, well I have lots of layers, Granger," he said with cheek.

"Very much like an onion," she told him. "And the more layers you go through, the stinkier you get."

"Ladies and gentlemen the comical stylings of Miss Hermione Granger." Hermione laughed and drained her mug.

"And I didn't know you could play the piano either."

"And I didn't know you could creep up on people with out them knowing about it. How long were you there for anyway?" he asked her.

"Well, I heard Chopin's 'Moonlight Sonata'"

"Beethoven," he interrupted.

"I thought Chopin wrote it? I'm wrong?"

"Yes, Granger, you're wrong."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Positive."

"All these years–"

"Yes, well you were wrong about something for a change. How does it feel?"

"Very funny."

"So you heard Beethoven?"

"Yes and then I was out like a light."

"Well, you don't snore. I didn't even know you were there until I went to leave and saw you sleeping."

"And you opened the doors and covered me with the blanket?" she asked him.

He cleared his throat and looked away, "Yes well, I thought it might get stuffy in there so I opened the door, but then I thought you might get cold from it and blame it on me, and well, that's the _last _thing I want to hear about–how _I got you sick _even though you were in there without my knowledge and I very well could have opened the doors and not seen you there and you still could have caught a cold or something, and blamed me even though I didn't know you were really there, but you and I both know you'd blame it for me–but since I knew that you _were _there, were you to get sick from the open doors, you _would _indeed blame me and I would _never _hear the end of it, so I covered you with the blanket," he finished lamely.

"To spare yourself from my wrath had I gotten sick?"

"Yes."

"Alright," she said cheekily, "because I thought–"

"Yeah, yeah, don't read too much into it Granger," he said brushing her off.

"Fine," she said giving him an amusing look. "So where did you learn to play piano?" she asked him. Draco's face faltered and he still wouldn't look at her.

"My mother," he said. Hermione nodded and decided a change in subject would be best.

"So," she said, "you said you can fix me something for breakfast?"

"I did indeed."

"I thought we didn't have much food."

"There isn't much, there's some porridge in the pantry and that's about it."

"So I guess I should go food shopping then," she told him as she got up and stretched.

"Why you?" he asked her.

"Well, this is my family's place and it's my responsibility to keep the kitchen stocked," she answered.

"That very well may be, but seeing as how I will be doing to majority of the cooking around here–"

"Woah, woah, woah," she stopped him, "why do _you _get to do most of the cooking? You think I can't cook?"

"Granger, whether you can or can't doesn't _matter _here. The reason why _I_ will be doing most of the cooking is because I'll have enough time. _You _on the other hand, still have life–your Healer training, your Order meetings, _that's today by the way_, your friends and family. What else have I got to do here? I can at least feel like I'm earning my keep if I make sure you eat properly," he said. "And besides, like I said, cooking relaxes me and Merlin knows I could stand for a little more relaxation in my life."

"Fine," Hermione said begrudgingly as she crossed her hands across her pajama clad chest. "But good, healthy food."

"Yes, Healer Granger."

"Shall we go food shopping?" she asked him.

"The two of us? Do you reckon it's a good idea?"

"Well seeing as how you've no idea where you're going I would say yes, Draco, it is indeed a good idea that I accompany you. Go on and get dressed then."

Hermione and Draco returned nearly two hours later laden with groceries. Of course, that was after they argued about who would push the cart. Hermione wanted Draco to push the cart so she could just get everything on her list, but Draco told her that '_you cannot simply shop from a silly list_', and that you needed to buy what you felt as you went along. They also fought over fresh herbs as opposed to dry, which only ended when they decided to buy both fresh _and _dry herbs.

It also didn't help that Draco's definition of 'healthy food' didn't quite match Hermione's. He then got on her case for being the child of not one, but _two _dentists, which meant that her, '_childhood must have meant deprivation of sugar_' which is why she, '_never cared much for sweets_'. And of course, he was in fact right, but Hermione would be _damned _if she let him win the argument.

After going through the whole store and losing each other twice–the first time Draco was pushing the cart when he went off, leaving Hermione with an armful of vegetables. The second time was when Hermione (having been annoyed by Draco leaving her the first time with all those vegetables, she decided to push the cart) left Draco for what _would have been _a minute to run and get some cheese only to come back and discover him gone, finding him nearly fifteen minutes later down the hygiene aisle deciding between two types of soap–they had their last argument of who would pay. In the end, Draco won, as he was quicker to pull out cash than Hermione, and also closer to the register.

When they finally got everything away it was the middle of the afternoon. Draco offered to make lunch but neither he nor Hermione were hungry. He went into the library and Hermione went back up to her room and readied herself for the meeting that day. She was going to visit her parents afterward as they were expecting her for dinner. At nearly three o'clock she went back down the library and told Draco that she would be gone for the rest of the day. He didn't ask questions and barely looked up from whatever book he was enamored with but made it clear that he understood. He told her he'd see her later that night as she stepped to the fireplace and Floo'd to somewhere inaudible. Hermione made sure that Draco couldn't hear where she was going, _not that she didn't trust him,_ but in case the worst should happen, he wouldn't be lying if someone slipped him a certain truth-telling potion.

Hermione stepped out of the fire place at number twelve, Grimmauld Place though no one was there to greet her. She made her way into the drawing room where the regular Order meetings were held to find the room bustling.

"Hermione!" Harry called out, running to her. "Where have you been?" he asked her somewhat frantically.

"I stayed at our shore house last night. I needed a break and my parents thought the sea air would be good for me." _Yes Hermione, lie to your best friend who is merely concerned for you_, she thought to herself.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't think it would be an issue, Harry, why?" Hermione hated lying to Harry but what else could she do?

"Nothing, come on, we're ready to start."

After Hermione greeted everyone, they all sat down for the meeting. Harry had somewhat taken over the Order after Dumbledore's death and today was no different. He stood in front of the Order and spoke frankly about the remaining Horcruxes. There were only two left until Harry went head to head with Voldemort. Harry was currently looking for the Goblet of Fire, though the final Horcrux was still a mystery as far as the Order was concerned. The meeting went on longer than usual. When Harry had something rather important, he liked to save that for last.

"We have received information that the Death Eaters are after one, Draco Malfoy." The contempt in Harry's voice could not have been more apparent but Hermione kept still. "Last night there was a Death Eater attack on a Muggle pub, where it is believed Malfoy frequented." Harry finished while Hermione sat, acting as if this was all new to her. Once the meeting was over she took her leave, telling everyone that her parents were expecting her for dinner and since the meeting had run later than normal, she needed to be quick about it.

She asked her parents at dinner if it would be alright if she stayed at Mariner's Cove for a while, until some things got sorted out. After some probing questions, Hermione eventually told them about Draco; how he was running from the Death Eaters, and, until yesterday, living a fine life by himself with only Hermione for company; how she knew that his alliances weren't with the Death Eaters and that yes, she was completely safe with him. Hermione just explained to them that they needed to trust her judgement, and how she would never put herself in jeopardy like that. Furthermore, Hermione also had incredible intuition. They couldn't argue with her of course, the Grangers knowing how stubborn their daughter was. When she was getting ready to leave her parents just asked her to be careful and watch out for herself. She kissed her parents good bye and promised she would.

Hermione then went back to Draco's flat to find it unscathed. The Death Eaters must not have known where he lived or the Aurors had cleaned it up. Either way she was grateful as she got to work, going through his things and packing what he would need. He couldn't very well live in one set of clothes, though everything Hermione seemed to be going through was all black. Her face reddened just slightly when she found his underwear drawer and simply shoved nearly all its contents in a bag. He would be needing as much as he could get.

Hermione's arms were full as she arrived back at Mariner's Cove that night. She set Crookshanks down and he scampered off up the stairs, Hermione following behind him. She left the bags she packed for Draco at the end of his bed. Then Hermione went back down to the library. Draco was in the same spot she left him in hours ago. It didn't even look like he had moved the entire time she was gone, though she could see he was nearly done with the book he had been reading. He didn't notice her until she sat down next to him.

"Did you eat dinner yet?" she asked him. He told her he hadn't and she let him finish his book. Five minutes later he was done and Hermione gave Draco the container she was holding onto. He took it and looked at her questioningly. "Steak and kidney pie. My mum sent it for you." He smiled at the thoughtful gesture and began to eat while Hermione sat with him.

**Author's Note** – I haven't updated in so long, I'm so sorry guys! I went away for a few days last week and then had a long weekend in Atlantic City to celebrate a friends' birthday. A fun time was had by all in case you were wondering. Anyway, I was originally going to end this chapter at the grocery store, but I figured since I've been horrible at updating lately, I would keep on going. I think I ended it in a good place (at least it's not a cliff hanger). I think there was enough comedy and drama and also some information in this chapter that will factor in later on. Oh and the divider thing isn't working for me, so apologies for that.

The whole Chopin/Beethoven thing was my typo from the last chapter. I wrote that Chopin wrote "Moonlight Sonata" and then a reader pointed out that it was Beethoven, but this way it's like I meant to do that (there's a Pee-Wee Herman moment for you, and if you don't know what I mean or who Pee-Wee Herman is please don't tell me because it will break my heart!). That's it for now I guess. I keep on putting off the Ron/Harry chapter that we all know is on it's way–it's coming soon even though I hate writing them! My AN's are getting way too long but you guys always read them which I appreciate. Once again, thanks for reading.


	14. The Gift of Song Sucks

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's world, not mine.**

Hermione sat beside Draco as he ate in comfortable silence, the sound of the ocean to her right and Draco eating to her left. When he finished his steak and kidney pie, Draco set down the container on the table and sat with Hermione. After a while, Hermione reached across Draco and picked up the book he had been reading. She read the title and smiled.

"So how was it?" she asked him. He pondered for a minute as if collecting his thoughts.

"It was really good," he told her, "it made me think."

"A good book always does."

"Have you ever been to America?" he asked her.

"No."

"I think I'd like New York City. It sounds interesting. Lots of things to do."

"I've seen pictures of Central Park in the winter. It looks really pretty all covered with snow."

"Were there ducks at the pond?" She thought for a minute.

"I can't remember," she told him. "You know," she said, "I can see why you liked '_Catcher in the Rye_' so much."

"Why is that, Granger?"

"To a certain level you can identify with Holden." She didn't go into further detail but Draco seemed to understand where she was coming from.

"So how're your parents?" he asked her.

"Fine," she answered. "I, er, told them, about everything."

"Yeah, I figured."

"How?" she asked.

"You told me your mum sent you home with dinner for me. How else would she have known to send me dinner?"

"Oh, yeah. I suppose so," she said. "I stopped by your flat," she added. Before he could ask she told him that the place was spotless, no signs of Death Eaters whatsoever.

"That's good I suppose."

"I packed some of your things for you. There's bags upstairs in your room. Clothes and whatnot. And I stopped by my flat too, so you'll see Crookshanks running around."

"That mangey beast is still alive? Wasn't he like a _thousand _when you first got him?"

"You leave Crookshanks alone!" she said, playfully hitting him on the arm. They were quiet again for a while.

"Granger, you were a little girl once," he said.

"And?"

"Well, my mother used to say that all little girls ever wanted was a 'happily ever after'. Was that true for you as well?" he asked, turning to her.

"Why do you ask?" she wondered.

"No reason," he said leaning back, "just thinking out loud." Hermione leaned back with him.

"Little girls hear tales of faraway lands, evil queens, and princes in disguise coming to their rescue, and they dream of living happily ever after. But as you get older you learn."

"What did you learn, Granger?" he asked her. She sighed.

"When happily ever after falls apart, you pick yourself up and you keep on going,_ even if it hurts like hell_." He nodded, absorbing her words. "Though, I'll admit," she said as she brought her knees to her chest, "I used to imagine my Prince Charming coming and sweeping me off my feet. Dancing together in the woods with the birds and the–"

"Birds?" he asked her. She quickly turned her reddened face away from him.

"You've never seen '_Sleeping Beauty_', you'd understand!"

"Of course," he said. Hermione could tell he was trying to hold his laughter so as not to completely embarrass her.

"What about you?" she asked him. "What was your happily ever after like?"

"I never thought about it. I just did what was expected of me. I never considered a happy ending, really."

"Well, what about now? You have a second chance," she told him.

"Granger, I'm alive. There's my happily ever after. Believe-it-or-not, I'm grateful to just _be _here."

"Well, good," she said.

"So," he said with a slightly wicked smirk, "tell me about this _Sleeping Beauty_." Hermione shook her head and laughed.

"There's a book of fairy tales around here somewhere."

"I'd much rather you tell me now," he said. She sighed dramatically.

"A long time ago, in a land far, far away, lived a beautiful princess."

"Was her name Hermione?" he asked cheekily.

"No, Draco! Her name was not Hermione!"

"Then what was it?"

"_Aurora_," Hermione stated.

"Like Aurora Borealis?" he asked her. Hermione started laughing and shook her head. "What? It's a perfectly legitimate question!"

"You _would _relate it back to the sky wouldn't you? Well, in any case, she was named after the Roman goddess of dawn because she filled her parents' lives with sunshine or something like that. And there were fairies who gave her gifts, you see."

"Like what?"

"She was given the gift of beauty."

"How superficial," he said.

"Yes, well, she was also given the gift of song."

"What!"

"The gift of song," she repeated, thinking he didn't hear her.

"I know what you said, Granger. I just think that's stupid."

"Why?"

"The gift of song sucks. There were a million things better that fairy could have come up with. What's so special about song?"

"It's what led the prince,_ her true love_, to her! She was singing in the woods, dancing–"

"With the birds?" he interrupted.

"Yes, Draco, with the birds. And as she sang and danced her voice carried out and led Prince Philip to her."

"And they lived happily ever after?"

"Well, no," Hermione explained. "You see, she left and then she pricked her finger on a spinning wheel and fell asleep and so did the whole kingdom. And the curse was only lifted when her true love, Prince Philip, found her in the top most tower of the castle and kissed her. The curse was removed and they danced together at the end, and they..."

"Lived happily ever after?"

"Precisely."

"Well," he said, "not a bad story as far as fairy tales go." He shook his head, "but I still think the gift of song sucks."

"What do you mean the gift of song sucks?" she asked him. "_You _play the piano!"

"So? It was no _gift_, Granger. I spent _years and years _practicing. It was _dedication _for me, not a gift some chubby little fairy granted."

"Oh, there's no point in arguing over this. The gift of song is what brought her love to her. The end," Hermione explained somewhat frustrated.

"That's not the end. If it was true love, _like you say_, they would have been brought together eventually, _regardless of her voice_," he emphasized.

"Draco," she sighed, "you are reading far too much into this. It is a children's fairy tale."

"I understand that, Granger," he told her. She thought the subject was dropped after a moments worth of silence. "All I'm saying is, I don't see how that fairy could have thought the gift of song was such a great idea." At this point Hermione pulled a pillow over her face and screamed into it. "Fine, the subject is now dropped."

"Thank you," she said placing the pillow back in its place. "You're exhausting sometimes, do you know that?"

"Ah, one of my many perks," he said smiling. "Come on, time to get you to bed, Granger. You're starting to get a little cranky," he joked. Draco got up from the couch and offered his hand to Hermione which she gladly took. She _did _have Healer training the next day. Draco started to lead her out of the library, though he didn't let go of her hand, not that Hermione minded, or even noticed, for that matter.

The next morning Hermione woke early, showered, dressed, kicked Crookshanks off the bed so she could make it, and then went downstairs to find Draco already in the kitchen reading a Muggle newspaper.

"Morning, Granger. Sleep well? Coffee's made."

"Good morning, yes, and thank you," she answered all at once as she poured a large cup of coffee. She took a sip and savored it. She had to admit it, he knew how to make a damn good cup of coffee.

"You hungry?" he asked her looking up from his paper.

"No," she declined, "I can't really eat heavy early in the mornings. I usually have something around my morning break at the hospital," she explained, "some Marmite on toast. Where'd you get a Muggle paper from?"

"I passed by a news stand on my way back," he told her, folding up the paper and handing it to her.

"Back from where?" she said taking the paper and skimming the front page.

"I went running this morning." Hermione found this a little hard to believe, seeing as how it was just past seven and Draco was fully dressed.

"So you woke up at what, five this morning?"

"Four-thirty, Granger. I never really did sleep much. If I get _too much sleep _then I'm groggy the whole day. As long as I've five solid hours of rest a night I'm good to go."

"So what else did you do this morning?"

"Well let's see. I woke up, put the rest of my clothes away, thank you for bring my things over by the way,"

"You're welcome," she said.

"Stretched," he continued.

"Of course, cause with out properly stretching you could hurt yourself during your run."

"Precisely. Went running for an hour, got a paper, came back here, showered, dressed, made my bed,"

"You made your own bed?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes Granger, I did. I never had to do it growing up but after, _everything_," he said, "I realized that no one was going to do it for me. It's something that needs to be done everyday and I do it first thing in the morning when I get back from my run. That way," he explained, "the bed airs out, you see. And then I came down here, put on the coffee and just finished reading the newspaper."

"Very impressive," Hermione said. "You get more done before seven than most people. So what are you going to do today?"

"I'll probably read this book I picked up last night," he said as he pulled a book out of his back pocket, "'_Murder on the Orient Express'_. It looks potentially not boring and thought it would be nice to sit outside and read."

"Oh, that's a good one," Hermione told him as she flipped through the newspaper. "The movie is really good too. Sometimes books make more sense after you've seen them."

"Really?"

"Yeah, we could watch it one day if you like. There's a lot of old movie stars in it."

"Like who?" he asked with interest.

"Um, Michael York, Sean Connery," she said.

"The guy who played James Bond?" he interrupted.

"Yes. Ingrid Bergman,"

"Who's she?" Draco asked.

"She was in '_Casablanca_', one of the most romantic movies ever, ever made. And Richard Widmark is in it too."

"_Casablanca_?"

"No, '_Murder on the Orient Express_'," she said as she shook her head.

"The guy from that '_I Love Lucy Episode_'!" he asked excitedly.

"Yup," she told him. He poured himself another cup of coffee and sat back across from Hermione.

"What about you, Granger? What's your normal weekday like?"

"Well, I'll be at the hospital all morning, have lunch at the Leaky Cauldron with Harry and Ron, more Healer training, then back here."

"And what time shall I expect you?"

"I get off work at five so a little after that," she told him checking her watch.

"Want anything special for dinner?"

"I'm not a fussy eater, Draco."

"Alright," he told her.

"I've gotta be going, actually," she said as she got up from the table. "Do you need anything from Diagon Alley?" Draco told Hermione that he didn't, and that he'd lived this long without anything from Diagon Alley so why he would suddenly need anything now was beyond him, but thanks anyways, and to have a good day.

Hermione arrived back at Mariner's Cove that night to find Draco in kitchen, though it didn't appear that he spent his entire day there. In fact, he looked, _darker_. His skin wasn't that pale color anymore, but it glowed slightly. Was Draco Malfoy, _gasp_, tan? Hermione then remembered him mentioning sitting outside and reading.

"Have a productive day, Draco?"

"Actually yes. I read that book and I couldn't put it down. I just sat outside all day. My skins never seen that much sun before." She laughed.

"I was going to say you looked different. What did you make?"

"Fish and chips."

"Sounds good to me," Hermione said as she began to set the table for the two of them.

"How was Healer training today?" he asked her.

"Fine," she said, "there was this one guy who came in. Apparently, he wanted to see if you could _Imperio _yourself, and cast the spell on himself as he stood in front of the mirror. He was pissed and wreaked of alcohol when he was brought in."

"Someone that idiotic should be wiped from the gene pool. He didn't happen to have red hair and a last name that sounded like Weasel, did he?" She sighed.

"No, Draco, it wasn't Ron or any other Weasley for that matter."

"So how _are _the gruesome twosome? You said you were having lunch with them today." She sighed again.

"They're fine. Actually, Harry was–"

"Granger," he interrupted as he served her, "I asked to be polite. I don't actually care, you see. So after you say, 'they're fine' it ends."

"Fine," she said dramatically as she began to eat.

"How is it?" he asked her as he began to eat. _Probably being polite again_. Hermione'd let him have it.

"_Fine_," she said innocently.

"Oh, come on, Granger," he said.

"It's fine. I'm being polite, you see. Then it ends."

"Touché."

They were both quiet for a while until Crookshanks came into the kitchen. Hermione softened up when she saw Draco give Crookshanks a bit of fish. It seemed like they had taken a liking to one another, and Crookshanks was a very good judge of character after all. After dinner Hermione cleaned the kitchen up rather quickly with the use of a cleaning spell before she and Draco went to watch "_The Godfather_" together. He had mentioned to her once how much he enjoyed the book. Hermione began to get tired towards the end, but Draco let her nod off on his shoulder without saying anything; he didn't even push her off which was nice, as he did have a rather comfortable shoulder.

"What do you say, Granger?" Draco asked as he got up and offered her his hand.

"Time for bed," she said, gladly accepting. Just like the night before, he began to lead her out of the room, not letting go of her hand. Hermione decided that she didn't mind tonight. In fact, it actually felt kind of nice, _not that she would ever admit that to anyone _(well, maybe Crookshanks, but he knew how to keep secrets thankfully). They walked in silence towards the door until Draco stopped short, causing Hermione to bump into him.

"Did you hear something?" he whispered.

"No, it's probably Crookshanks somewhere causing mischief," she said lightly. Draco didn't move. "I think you've been reading too many mysteries, Draco. I'll find that book of fairy tales before I leave tomorrow," she told him. "Draco, what's the mat–" she started to ask.

Before Hermione could finish Draco pushed her down to the floor and covered her body with his, holding her tightly. Hermione couldn't see, as Draco had her head covered with his arm and facing the floor, but she did hear more than one set of footsteps entering the room. Hermione tried not to panic, though she would have felt better had she been able to reach her wand. She could feel Draco's heart racing on her back. _How did they find them at Mariner's Cove_?

**Author's Note** – It took me forever to figure out the last bit. I just couldn't decide how to end it (and now I'm tired so forgive any typos I may have made). A bit of humor, a bit of drama, a bit of a cliff hanger, just the way I like it. And the line's not working again, so forgive my lack of dividers (you guys are smart enough to figure it out though).

Central Park _is _really nice in the winter (the best was when they had "The Gates" a few years back, and if you don't know what I'm talking about Google it cause it was really pretty).

The whole "_Sleeping Beauty_" gift of song thing is a real discussion I had more than once. I mean, honestly, the gift of song? Please! My friend and I always thought it was really lame. We had many debates at our lunch table in high school over that issue.

Finally, I wanted to ask you guys something. Since they don't meet at the Paradise Lost anymore, should I change the title? Maybe just plain old, "Rendevous"? Let me know what you guys think. And I also think I am going to go back and actually give my chapters titles (not that it makes a big difference or anything). As always, thanks for reading.


	15. Really Good Coffee

**Disclaimer–J.K. Rowling's world, not mine.**

"Did you hear something?" Draco whispered.

"No, it's probably Crookshanks somewhere causing mischief," she said lightly. Draco didn't move. "I think you've been reading too many mysteries, Draco. I'll find that book of fairy tales before I leave tomorrow," she told him. "Draco, what's the mat–" she started to ask.

Before Hermione could finish Draco pushed her down to the floor and covered her body with his, holding her tightly. Hermione couldn't see, as Draco had her head covered with his arm and facing the floor, but she did hear more than one set of footsteps entering the room. Hermione tried not to panic, though she would have felt better had she been able to reach her wand. She could feel Draco's heart racing on her back. _How did they find them at Mariner's Cove_?

"HERMIONE, DON'T MOVE!"

"Harry!" Hermione yelled out, still facing the floor. Why she yelled, she wasn't quite sure, but it seemed appropriate. Draco was still on top of her and didn't move. "Draco, it's okay," she whispered to him. He got the message and started to get up off of Hermione, until he fell back on her. He seemed heavier this time and his whole body was stiff.

"Help me move him off her, Ron." Harry and Ron (both glaring daggers at Draco, who had also been glaring at the pair) pulled Draco off Hermione and she got up, trying to collect herself. When she was up, they let Draco fall back to the floor.

"Harry! Ron!" she said, startled at the way they treated Draco.

"Hermione–" Harry said through clenched teeth. He stopped and took a few deep breaths at first. Ron took the opportunity to speak up.

"Are you okay, Hermione? Did he hurt you?" Hermione's stomach dropped. Of course Harry and Ron would think Draco had hurt her.

"No, Ron. I'm fine, I promise," she assured him. The two boys looked to Draco who was lying stiff as a board on the floor.

"You wanna break his nose?" Ron asked Harry, as they both looked down at Draco's stiff body.

"Don't!" Hermione yelled. They gave her a funny look and rushed over, forgetting about Draco.

"What do you reckon?" Ron asked Harry quietly, as they both gave her the once over.

"I am _NOT _under the Imperius Curse!" she told them.

"You're not, are you?" Harry said, more to himself than anyone else. "Well, good then, that's really good. In _that case_, Hermione," Harry seemed to have found his voice, "perhaps you can explain _THAT_!" He pointed to Draco who was still on the floor and currently rolling his eyes.

"Yes, Hermione do tell. What in the bloody hell is he doing here!" Ron added. Hermione could feel a migraine coming on.

"I can explain everything. Just sit down and let's all be calm about this."

"Calm? Calm!"

"_Ronald_,_ please_." She was in no mood for one of Ron's tantrums. Ron's ears went pink and he and Harry both sat down very slowly as Hermione went over to Draco with her wand.

"Hermione, what in the hell do you think you're doing?" Ron asked, as he and Harry started to get up.

"Sit back down, both of you," she said in her bossiest voice that still intimidated them, as they did what she said. "Draco, please," she whispered to him, "_behave_." With that, Hermione lifted the spell and they both made their way towards Harry and Ron, who were both visibly livid. Hermione sat down in a chair across from the sofa Harry and Ron occupied while Draco was content standing next to her. Harry and Ron still didn't trust Draco of course, and held their wands up to him. Draco refused to back down and gave Harry and Ron that, "just try me" look.

"Put those wands away," Hermione told them.

"Hermione, don't," Harry said with venom.

"How dare you speak to her that way, Potter!" Draco spat back

"STOP IT! All of you!" Hermione shouted. She'd be hoarse tomorrow, that's for sure. Harry and Ron wouldn't put down their wands however, so Hermione nonverbally Accio'd them. "Now we're going to sit here and I'm going to explain what's going on, but I can't do that if_ you two _keep on interrupting me. And as for you, Draco,"

"_Draco _is it, now?" Ron sneered. Hermione cast Ron a warning, and then told Draco not to bait Harry and Ron.

"Now all of you just sit down and shut up!" she said. Hermione gave Draco her best "puppy dog eyes" which made him pull up another chair so that they were all sitting and facing one another.

"About three months ago..."

"Three months!" Harry and Ron yelled angrily.

"Hermione this's been going on for three months! How could you! Shacking up with Malfoy!"

"Harry!" Hermione yelled back.

"He's probably just jealous cause he thinks you're getting more than he is, Hermione," Draco snarked.

"I am not! I don't have _anything _to be jealous of," Harry shouted back

"You better not be!" Ron said to Harry, rather angry.

"What!" Harry asked Ron.

"My little sister, Harry! I swear!" Ron yelled

"I didn't mean it like that!" Harry tried to explain to Ron.

"Oh my God, will you two just stop and listen to me!" Hermione snapped back and nonverbally cast a Silencio on both Harry and Ron.

"If you two are going to behave like children, then that's how I'm going to treat you. Now let me get this straight; I love you both dearly," this prompted an eye roll from Draco but Hermione ignored it, "but you will not come into my house, _yes Ron, this is my house_," she explained to the confused looking red head, "and condescend to me like this. There is a perfectly logical explanation as to why Draco is here. Yes, I can assure you both that the three of us are no way, shape, or form, in any danger whilst in his presence. Now, if I lift the spell do you two _promise _to hear me out?" They both shook their heads.

"Thank you," Ron said. "Now go on, Hermione." She took a deep breath.

"About, three months ago," she paused but neither Harry nor Ron looked like they were going to interject, "I was out for a walk when it started to storm and I ran into a Muggle Pub, The Paradise Lost. I sat down at the bar and intended to wait out the storm when Draco came up to me. When I asked him what he was doing there he eventually told me that he was just waiting to die. There was no place in the Wizarding world for him anymore, and he didn't really belong in the Muggle world either," she explained to Harry and Ron.

"I never thought I'd feel compassion for Draco Malfoy, but there it was. So he asked me to meet him again the next day for a drink. At that point, I was still unsure and so I asked him how did I know it wasn't a trap. How did I know he wouldn't have a gang of Death Eaters waiting there tomorrow. Then Draco asked me how did _he_ know that_ I_ wouldn't show up tomorrow with the Order. When I went home that night I decided to take my chances and meet him again the next day.

"That was the day we had lunch and you Harry, you kept on saying how distracted I was. And you also asked me where I was when you had floo'd the night before. Now you know the truth. That night when I went back, _yes_, I made sure there were no Death Eaters around. At that point I still didn't trust Draco completely." _That was a mistake_. Hermione just admitted, not only to Harry, Ron, and Draco that she trusted him completely, she admitted it to herself. How should she feel about this? She didn't have the time to sort it out yet. Perhaps none of them caught it.

"When I met up with him again, there was a drink waiting for me. No Ron," she said looking at him, "he didn't _poison _it. So we just sat there and talked," she paused.

"You just talked?" Harry asked.

"Yes. You see, I asked Draco what it was he did all day. I assumed he just sat there, drinking himself to an early death. But he got upset when I asked him that," she said, glancing over to Draco who was showing no emotion. "He thought that I suspected him of Death Eater activity. He kept on saying, 'Do you really think I could go back after what they did?' The way he reacted, I knew that he was done with them.

"Then one night not too long ago I was leaving the pub when I saw Death Eaters outside. I ran back in and got Draco. We Aparated to my flat and then here. And now you're pretty much all caught up," she finished. "How did you find us here, by the way?" she asked.

"I slipped a tracking device on you at lunch," Harry told her._ So that explains his awkward behavior that afternoon_. "I told you I had a feeling something more was going on with you. Based on your behavior at the meet–er, Sunday night," he said catching himself, "I knew there was something about the attack you weren't letting on. And it was no coincidence that the night they attack near your flat you decide to take a holiday at the shore."

"We needed to make sure you were alright, Hermione," Ron told her. His voice sounded like he was somewhat hurt that she felt the need to hide all of this from them.

"What did the Death Eaters do?" Harry asked Draco flatly.

"They killed my parents," Draco said in the same tone as Harry's.

"How do you know?" Ron asked.

"I was there." Hermione looked over to Harry. He had to have been having some inner struggle. Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter, both orphans because of Voldemort.

"You said it yourself, Harry," Hermione said, "he lowered his wand that night. I know in the past you both have thought Draco to be evil, but listen to me. 'Evil' is not a word to use lightly. It's only the darkest end of a broad spectrum. Nobody's born in total darkness. You only get absolute evil by doing one thing after another until eventually you're transformed. Almost everybody has some light somewhere. And light is worth fighting for."

"Hermione," Harry said looking slightly exhausted, "you realize we can't just ignore this. The entire Order is looking for Malfoy."

"Well don't I feel loved," Draco said sarcastically. Harry sighed and put his head in his hands.

"It's going to be a long night, isn't it?" he said to no one in particular. Then Draco got up.

"Where're you going, Malfoy?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"I'm going to make coffee, Weasel," Draco said and left the room. Both Harry and Ron looked at Hermione curiously.

"He makes _really _good coffee," Hermione assured them. It was the best thing she could come up with. _A long night indeed_.

**Author's Note –** You all knew it was coming, and based on the reviews, I can't get anything past you guys! I don't know how I feel about this chapter. I'm kind of ambivalent. Anyways, as school will be starting next week, updates will probably be slower. I really thought I'd have this done by the end of the summer actually; it was only supposed to last for a few chapters but you guys responded so well I just kept on going. After this chapter though, there isn't too much more left. I know where I need to go, it's just a matter of sitting down and doing it. I'd like to end it at 20 chapters, that's a good number I think. Alright, I'll shoot for 20 chapters, how does that sound?

Oh, and thanks to everyone who responded about the renaming of my story! I have decided _not _to rename it after all, "_Rendevous at the Paradise Lost_"shall remain as it is. Actually, I'm glad no one really wanted me to change it. I liked StarArrow's explanation best; "_The way you talk about the house they are at it almost seems like a lost paradise anyway. Lost meaning no one should know where it is_." So there ya go. Thanks for reading everyone! Let me know what you guys think.


	16. The Old Veritaserum In The Coffee Trick

**Disclaimer–J.K. Rowling's world, not mine.**

* * *

It was tensely silent for the first few moments Draco had left the room. Harry and Ron didn't seem to know what to say to Hermione.

"You know," Harry started looking at Hermione, "you never cease to amaze me, Hermione."

"Harry I know this looks bad–"

"You _do _realize you can be thrown in Azkaban for this!" Harry yelled.

"Harry, listen to me. If I thought Draco was any threat I would have turned him in straight away but he's not."

"Yeah, well, we'll see about that," Harry muttered.

"What's _that _supposed to mean?" she asked him. Harry didn't answer but started searching through his pockets for something. He pulled out a small vial with something that looked like water. Hermione, of course, knew better.

"_Veritaserum_? Harry do you really think–"

"Yes, Hermione," Ron cut in, "it _is _necessary."

"I'll just slip this into Malfoy's coffee when he comes back and ask him a few questions," Harry explained. "Then, depending on what he says, we'll take it from there."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. She was angry that Harry and Ron didn't trust her judgement regarding Draco. _Like she would put herself in danger like that?_ _Please_! She wasn't the brightest witch in Hogwarts for nothing. And she really didn't think Draco was going to be thick enough to fall for Harry's Veritaserum-in-the-coffee-trick either.

* * *

A few minutes later, Draco came back with a tray of coffee. He looked back at Harry and Ron suspiciously as he set the tray down on the table. Draco poured out the coffee into cups but his eyes remained fixed on Harry's. Then he took two cups and handed one to Hermione and kept the other for himself as he leaned back in his seat, smirking and still looking Harry directly in the eyes.

"If you think you're going to slip some Veritaserum into my coffee, Potter, you'd better be slick about it."

"How did you–" Ron started.

"You're a Legilimens then?" Harry accused.

"Yes, well," Draco said as he took a sip of coffee, "it comes in _handy_, doesn't it."

Hermione rolled her eyes and drank her coffee. Harry and Ron didn't dare touch their cups, though she knew they were probably dying to. It was just after midnight when she and Draco had finished watching _The Godfather_, and Auror training always took a lot out of Harry and Ron. Harry especially, was wearing thin as of late.

"Take it, Malfoy," Harry commanded as he took out the vial from his pocket. All Draco could do was laugh.

"And why would I do that, _Potter_?"

"Because, _Malfoy_," Harry said, "for some reason Hermione trusts you. Do you really want to prove her wrong? Or is it that you have something to hide?" Reverse psychology?_ Nice try Harry_, Hermione thought, having tried that herself before.

"I've nothing to hide, Potter," he spat back, "but how do I know that's really Veritaserum in there? What if _you're _the one who wants to poison me?"

"You forget, Malfoy," Harry said, "Hermione trusts us too." Draco looked over to Hermione and then back to Harry. Finally, Draco let out a sigh and snatched the vial from Harry, downing the whole thing in one gulp.

"What's your name," Ron asked him.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy," Draco automatically responded.

"And where did you grow up?" Harry asked.

"Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire."

"Is that right?" Harry asked Ron.

"Dunno. Is that right, Hermione?" Ron asked her.

"Why don't you two ask him things that you're sure about first, and then get to the other questions," she explained. Those two were so _daft _sometimes.

"Right," Harry said. "What position did you play on the Quidditch team?"

"I was the Slytherin Seeker."

"I reckon it's really Malfoy then," Ron said mumbled.

"Good. Alright, Malfoy," Harry paused, "what happened after that night in the tower?"

"I fled with Snape that night. When the Death Eaters told the Dark Lord I couldn't do it, he killed my parents. Then I was thrown into solitary confinement and punished–"

"Harry please," Hermione said.

"Okay, Malfoy. So how did you escape the Death Eaters?"

"Professor Snape came down to see me and gave me back my wand. We made it look like I attacked him and I got out. I went straight to Gringott's and cleaned out one of my family's vault's and fled to the Muggle world." It was the same story that Draco had told her on his birthday.

"And you're no longer a Death Eater, Malfoy?" Ron asked.

"You don't just stop being a Death Eater, Weasley, but I am not a practicing Death Eater if that helps."

"Ok, Malfoy, we believe you," Harry said. "Now, tell us what the Death Eaters know about the Order of the Phoenix."

"They know it's an organization Dumbledore ran up until," Draco paused. Even under the effects of the Veritaserum he had trouble saying it. "Until he was killed. They now believe that it's being run by Potter now.

"Your meetings are Sundays but they don't know the location. They believe that the location changes from week to week. It has been confirmed that Hagrid, Lupin, McGonagall, Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, Weasley's Arthur, Bill, Charlie, Molly, Fred and George are all members.

"The Death Eaters believed, up until I left, that the Order was searching for Horcruxes. The Dark Lord, especially, is nervous about Potter finding them." Harry, Ron, and Hermione all sat up straighter when Draco mentioned Horcruxes.

"Malfoy," Harry said, "what do you know about the remaining Horcruxes?"

"Nothing. The Dark Lord never shared such information with me."

"Dammit!" Harry yelled.

"Harry I think you should stop now," Hermione said.

"No, Hermione," Harry said quietly. "Not yet. I have just one more question for him." Harry stopped and looked Draco straight in the eyes. "Malfoy, could you really have gone through with it and killed Dumbledore that night in the tower?"

"No, I couldn't."

Hermione was relieved, to say the least. She knew that Draco couldn't have gone through with it, but surely even Harry and Ron couldn't argue with his answer since he had been under the effects of Veritaserum. They both seemed to ease up after that, though neither said anything. Harry, however, did take a drink of the coffee Draco had poured for him.

"Hmm," Harry contemplated, "this _is _good coffee." Hermione wasn't about to say _I told you so_. Harry drained his cup and then got up. "Hermione I need to use your Floo," he said walking towards the fireplace.

"Go ahead, Harry." Harry whispered his destination and then was off.

* * *

"So I'm off to Azkaban, eh?" Draco said to no one in particular.

"No, Malfoy," Ron said slightly annoyed. "You're not going to Azkaban. Harry just needs to make some travel arrangements. You two can't stay here anymore. It might not be safe."

"So we're just going to pick up and leave then?" Draco snapped. Ron rolled his eyes unsympathetically.

"Actually, you two should go and pack your things. This way we can leave right when Harry gets back."

* * *

Nearly half an hour later Harry returned with a portkey. Hermione and Draco gathered their things together as Ron took a very annoyed Crookshanks (who had been sleeping very nicely until he had been unceremoniously woken up, hence his agitated state). Harry held out the stuffed bear. After a minute it began to glow blue and they were transported.

It was nearly pitch black when they arrived but Harry had the Put-Outer handy anyway. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all began to walk to familiar path to the house until she realized that Draco couldn't tell where he was going.

"Come on, Draco. It's just up here," she whispered. "Follow me." Hermione could see the house and looked over to Draco. It was clear that he was staring at nothing and Hermione couldn't help but smile. He made the oddest face when he was puzzled, she had noticed before. They gave Harry and Ron their things as the two of them went into the house.

"Where are we?" Draco whispered to her.

"You'll see in a minute. Just wait." Harry came back out holding a piece of paper and thrust it into Draco's hands.

"Read it and memorize it," Harry said as he lit up the tip of his wand so Draco could see it.

_The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London_.

Once Draco committed the information to memory, Harry burnt the paper and the three of them proceeded inside the house. As they entered the house, Hermione could hear an irritated Harry mumble something along the lines of "home sweet home."

_Grimmauld Place_, Hermione thought. _Home sweet home indeed_.

**

* * *

Author's Note – It's been nearly a month since my last update! Sorry about the delay. I got kind of stuck while I was writing this chapter (but I did manage to write the very end of this story and two different one-shots). Anyway, not much to say about this chapter. It's nearing the end! Let me know what you guys think. Thanks for reading.**


	17. Everyone Needs Some Rest

**Disclaimer–J.K. Rowling's world, not mine.

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**

Hermione proceeded to enter Grimmauld Place, motioning for Draco to follow her and be quiet. Once they were inside however, Draco tripped over the umbrella stand causing a loud crash.

"Draco!" Hermione yelled at him as he picked himself up.

"I'm sorr–" Draco's words were cut off by that horrible, earsplitting, bloodcurdling screech Hermione had grown to hate. The moth-eaten velvet curtains flew apart and there was Mrs. Black, screaming bloody murder.

"Flithy! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, children of filth, mutant _freaks_," she looked directly at Hermione when she said mutant freaks, "blood traitors! Abomination of my fle–" She stopped immediately when she saw Draco. "Those eyes," Mrs. Black said. "Those eyes are that of a pureblood! From the most noble and ancient house of Black! Who are your parents?"

Draco looked at the woman curiously but answered her nonetheless. "Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black."

"Oh!" Mrs. Black squealed. "My little niece, Cissy! Is this house finally being turned over to the rightful owners? I specified in my will that this home was to be left to a pureblood, not some lowly _blood traitor _or _half-breed scum_!" Hermione rolled her eyes at the woman. Draco looked at Hermione and seemed to understand what she was talking about, as he winked at Hermione before answering Mrs. Black.

"Yes well, Auntie Black, I'm living here now, so there'll be no need to cause such a fuss," he said sweetly to the portrait.

"I should say it's about time, my dear! To think, I've had to watch these _freaks_ take over my home these past few years!"

"_You poor thing_," Draco sympathized, "why don't you close your curtains and get some well deserved rest?"

"Rest? Yes, I think I will. I haven't had a good rest since this _scum_ moved in! Sleep with one eye open, you know. In case they take things. _My poor Kreacher_, he tried his best. Always remained faithful to his mistress. Rest, yes I think a few winks of sleep might do me good now that I think about it."

"Good night, Auntie," Draco said as he closed the curtains.

* * *

"I cannot believe you actually got that woman to shut up," Hermione said as they made their way into the kitchen. 

"What can I say, Granger? No one can resist my charm."

"Who did he get to shut up?" Harry asked sitting at the table with a mug of something.

"Mrs. Black," Hermione said as she took out two mugs and poured hot chocolate for her and Draco, even though it was nearly dawn.

"How'd he do that?" Harry asked through a yawn.

"She thinks that the house was turned over to Draco. He got her to close her curtains and go to sleep," Hermione explained.

"Well as long as she shut up," Harry said.

"So who really owns this house?" Draco asked.

"I do," Harry answered with no emotion.

"You own it, Potter? I thought it was supposed to remain in the Black family? So then..." Draco wandered. He must have been trying to figure out how Harry came about owning the Black house.

"So then," Harry snapped, "this house was willed to me by my godfather, when Sirius Black was murdered by your _dear Auntie Bellatrix_."

"Harry," Hermione said gently.

"Hey, believe me Potter. I know firsthand how my _dear Auntie Bella_ is," he said taking a drink. "Mad as a hatter. She reckons the Dark Lord is going to proclaim his love for her one of these days. She doesn't trust anyone." He said off-handedly, "she never even trusted Severus." Hermione looked over to Harry. The mere mention of Snapes name was liable to send him flying off the handle. Not now though, thankfully. He must have been too tired.

"Why didn't she trust Snape?" Harry asked Draco with interest.

"Dunno. I always assumed it was because Severus _really was_ one of the Dark Lord's most trusted, and Aunt Bella was just jealous," Draco explained.

"And everyone else trusted Snape?" Harry said. "Did _you_ trust him completely?"

"Severus saved my life, Potter. Thinking back I can honestly say he was only looking out for my best interest. I just assumed that he wanted the glory for himself," Draco said.

"That night outside Slughorn's Christmas party I heard you yelling at him about that." Harry told him.

"Yes well," Draco trailed.

"And the other Death Eaters," Harry asked him, "did they trust Snape too?"

"I can't really say. Everyone knew the Dark Lord trusted Severus first and foremost."

"Do you know of any tasks Voldemort gave to Snape?" Harry asked him. Hermione, for one, couldn't believe these two were actually having a civilized conversation. She wasn't about to interrupt it though, and just sat back and listened.

"He had Severus watch over Pettigrew," Draco explained. Harry's eyes flashed at the thought of the man who had betrayed his parents.

"What do you mean, _watch over_?" Harry asked eagerly.

"The Dark Lord put that _rat_ into Severus' care after what happened at the Department of Mysteries. Pettigrew was living with Severus at Spi–" Draco stopped himself. Hermione couldn't help but wonder if he was about to give away the location of Snape. Why didn't Harry and Ron think ask him that under the Veritaserum?

"Living with him where, Malfoy?" Harry tensed up.

"I'm no rat. Severus saved my life, Potter," Draco said calmly. "Besides, he's not there anymore."

"Well if he's not there, then what's the harm?" Harry said.

"Loyalty, Potter. Something I'm sure you understand," Draco said firmly.

"Don't you even bring him up!" Harry said. "You were never worthy to even lick Dumbledore's boots! _He saved my life_."

"_And Severus saved mine_," Draco retorted.

"Draco, please," Hermione said. "What if he left something? It might help us. Any clue."

"I don't even know where it is," Draco told her quietly. He sighed, "it's called _Spinner's End_. It's some place up north. Some rundown, industrial city from what my mum–" he stopped. "From what my mum said when she went to go see him."

"When she asked him to make the Unbreakable Vow?" Harry asked quietly. Draco nodded, looking at the floor.

* * *

Finally, Harry got up and put his mug in the kitchen sink and turned back to Hermione. "I owl'd St. Mungo's earlier. You're not going to Healer training today. You need some rest, Hermione," Harry said with care. "When you're done, show Malfoy to his room, the one the twins used to stay in." 

"Are you going to sleep Harry?" she asked.

"No," he said, "I need to clear my head. I'm going to go for a walk, watch the sunrise, think," he said sadly.

"Alright," Hermione said, "be careful, Harry."

"I always am," he sighed. And with a crack, Harry was gone.

"He's off to Godric's Hollow again," Hermione said to herself.

"Sorry?" Draco said.

"Oh, nothing, I was just,"

"Talking to yourself, Granger?" he smirked. "So where's Potter really off to?"

"He goes to Godric's Hollow when he's like that," Hermione explained sadly.

"That's where his parents,"

"Yeah." They were silent for a moment until Hermione let out a yawn.

"Alright, Granger. Why don't you show me to this room I'm supposed to be sleeping in. I need my beauty rest." She laughed.

"Come on," she said. Hermione liked this playful side of Draco. Call her selfish, but it made her feel special that she was the only one who ever saw it. Hermione couldn't help but smile as she led Draco upstairs to his new room.

* * *

**Author's Note** – This chapter actually took an unexpected turn. I promise I'm getting to the good stuff soon! I don't think there's much else to say about this chapter. I know Ron kind of just disappeared, but I've said how much I hate writing for him and Harry, and Harry was needed in this chapter. Ron was too tired and didn't feel like dealing with Draco anymore. There ya go. Oh, and that umbrella stand? It's the same one Tonks is always tripping over in the books. I think it's something in the Black genes. I thought it might be funny. Still not much going on, but like I said, good stuff is coming soon. I promise. Thanks for reading. 


	18. Of Stew and Girl Talk

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's world, not mine.

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**

"Alright, Granger. Why don't you show me to this room I'm supposed to be sleeping in. I need my beauty rest." She laughed.

"Come on," she said. Hermione liked this playful side of Draco. Call her selfish, but it made her feel special that she was the only one who ever saw it. Hermione couldn't help but smile as she led Draco upstairs to his new room.

"The twins used to sleep in here during the summer holidays when we all stayed here, so it should be big enough for you." Hermione told him opening the door to Draco's new room.

"As long as I don't find essence of Weasels I'm sure I'll be fine." Draco said in what Hermione hoped was a sarcastic voice.

"Behave or you won't get any linens!" Hermione teased. With a flick of her wand, Hermione produced clean linens and a duvet cover for Draco's bed. "The bathroom's down the hall, my room's down there too if you need me for anything. Don't worry about Harry, his room's the other way and he won't bother you. He'll probably be in Godric's Hollow for most of the morning anyway. I guess that's about it, you should get some sleep. It's been a long night."

"Thanks, Granger."

"You're welcome. Goodnight, Draco."

"Morning, Granger. Good _morning_," he smirked at her. She smiled and rolled her eyes at him.

Hermione crept down the hall and into her room. Her things had been brought upstairs at some point in the night. She took her shoes off and changed out of her clothes. Hermione didn't feel very tired. In fact, she thought she was wide awake until her head hit the pillow. The next thing she knew, she woke up and it was nearing noon.

* * *

Hermione got out of bed feeling very refreshed from the few hours of sleep she received. Once she showered and got dressed it was nearly half past noon, and Hermione decided to scrounge something up for lunch downstairs.

She walked down the hall and past Draco's room quietly. Hermione wasn't sure if he was still sleeping or not, but knocked on his door anyway. Draco looked relieved when he saw Hermione.

"How long have you been awake?" she asked him.

"About two hours."

"You've been in your room this whole time?" she asked him.

"Well, no I showered and everything," he explained.

"I mean you didn't venture past this hallway?" He shook his head. "Alright come on. You can make me something for lunch. I'm in no mood to cook today."

"So Granger, where do they keep the elf heads?" he asked her with a smirk.

* * *

It was rather quiet as Hermione and Draco walked downstairs. Mrs. Black must still have been sleeping. It wasn't until they reached the door to the kitchen when they heard a loud crash coming from the other side. Draco pushed Hermione in back of him and opened the door slowly. Hermione knew they were safe at Grimmauld Place, but she indulged him. When he opened the door, Hermione smiled. Tonks had dropped a bowl of stew all over the floor and was muttering to herself as she cleaned. Draco gave Hermione a puzzled look, but she made it clear to him that it was alright, and proceeded into the kitchen.

"Tonks!" Hermione yelled. Tonks looked up at the pair smiling. Hermione made her way over to Tonks and gave her a hug. As they embraced, Tonks whispered into Hermione's ear about the _Draco situation_, and Hermione told her it was all under control.

"You sure?" Tonks asked her.

"Positive," Hermione assured as she let go. "Allow me," Hermione said. With a swish of her wand, the mess was cleaned up. Hermione then turned back to Draco, who was still standing in the doorway. "This is Nymphadora Tonks, but call her by her surname."

"So, you're Aunt Androdemda's daughter then?" Draco asked as he came into the kitchen.

"That's right. We're cousins, Draco. Come here," Tonks said gently as she pulled him into a hug. By the look on his face, Hermione could tell he was taken aback. Draco just awkwardly patted her on the back until she let him go. "It's good to have you on our side," she said kissing him on the cheek.

"Yes well," he cleared his throat, "I guess it's better than dying, even if it means being allied with," he sighed and rolled his eyes, "Potter."

"Hermione can I talk to you for a minute?" Tonks asked her.

"Sure."

"We'll be right back, Draco. There's stew in the pot on the stove if you're hungry," she said as she led Hermione to the other room. They sat down on the couch together and Tonks smiled at her.

"You weren't surprised to see us," Hermione said.

"No. Harry Floo'd Remus _very _early this morning," Tonks explained.

"And you just so _happened _to be there as well?" Hermione could help but tease her. Tonks' cheeks turned pink but she just rolled her eyes.

"You've been hanging around my cousin far too long apparently. I think he's had an affect on you," she told Hermione. "And I _do_ believe, that you've had an affect on him as well."

"A good one I hope?" Hermione asked. Tonks nodded.

"So tell me, what _is _going on between the two of you?" Tonks asked her.

"What's _that _supposed to mean?" Hermione asked.

"Well, from what I heard, you two have been meeting for drinks for months. And then you and Draco fled to the shore after the Death Eaters attacked."

"Ok well, the drinks were just casual. And then after the attack, I brought Draco to my family's house at the shore. It only made sense to stay there with him," Hermione explained.

"_Right_," Tonks said none too convinced.

"I'm serious!" Hermione assured her.

"So there's nothing going on between the two of you?"

"Nothing," Hermione guaranteed.

"So you mean to tell me that all these months, it's all been completely platonic between the two of you?"

"Completely."

Tonks pressed on. "Nothing? Not even a kiss?" she asked. Hermione began to turn red. "Hermione? Is there a reason you're blushing?"

"It was nothing. I'd rather not talk about it," she blushed.

"Hermione, you know you can confide in me. Besides, I'm probably the only family he's got left." Hermione sighed.

"Okay well there was one night when Draco was drunk. It was his mother's birthday and he was really messed up. So I took him back to his flat and he kissed me a few times, but they were drunken kisses. They didn't mean anything," Hermione explained. Tonks cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Didn't they?" Hermione's cheeks flamed. Tonks could be very perceptive at times. Those kisses didn't mean anything to Draco, so even if they _did _mean something to Hermione (_which they didn't_!) it wouldn't make any difference anyway. "Okay, okay. Enough of my lecturing. You're a big girl and are perfectly capable of making your own decisions."

"At least you understand that, Tonks. I still think Harry and Ron are upset with me for keeping them in the dark for so long."

"Yes well, I think it may be the mere fact that it's _Draco Malfoy_. If it were anyone else, I don't think they would have as big a problem with it," Tonks told her.

"I think Ron's really upset. He accused Draco and I of shacking up."

"It's no secret how much Ron," Tonks paused looking for the right words, "_cares_ for you. I guess he's just worried about Draco...invading his territory, for lack of better words."

"It's just that this whole situation has made me reassess certain _feelings _I have, and feelings I _thought _I had, and feelings I think I _should _have but maybe I don't anymore," Hermione confessed. "And if _people _find out about my feelings, or lack thereof," Hermione said, "I just don't want anyone to get hurt."

"Your secret's safe with me," Tonks promised. "So he really has changed then, eh?"

"I know. If I didn't see the metamorphosis myself, I wouldn't have believed it either. He's different ever since that night in the tower. Losing his parents; Voldemort killed Lucius and Narcissa right in front of him." Tonks gasped. "I know."

"I can't even imagine what he must have went through," Tonks said.

"And the worst part is, he blames himself." Tonks shook her head sadly.

"Well, at any rate, he seems to be doing alright now. You must have really helped him, Hermione." Hermione smiled. "Come on. He must be wondering what we're doing and you're probably hungry too."

"Famished actually," Hermione said as she and Tonks got up. "Did you know Draco cooks?" she asked Tonks.

"No!"

"Yes, and he's really very good at it." The two laughed and went back into the kitchen. Draco was sitting at the table with a bowl of stew when they walked in.

"Everything," he started looking back at Tonks and then Hermione, "alright?" he asked suspiciously.

"Fine," Tonks said as she and Hermione joined him at the table. Hermione helped herself to some stew and began eating.

"Fine?" he asked Hermione.

"Fine," Hermione assured him.

"What were–" he started but was interrupted by Tonks.

"Nothing really. Just a little _girl talk_." Draco opened his mouth to speak but closed it after a minute.

"Never mind, I don't think I wanna know what that entails," he said. "So, are you here to babysit then?"

"I _volunteered _to stick around here for a while. Besides, we're family. We should spend some time getting to know each other," Tonks told him.

"Are you serious?" he asked her.

"Yes Draco, I am."

"Alright, why not," he responded, finally giving in. Tonks looked happy.

"You're on a good path now, Draco. And as long as you're on this path, Hermione and I will always be here for you," Tonks told him. Hermione nodded when Draco looked over at her. "Trust me," Tonks said. "Stick with us and they'll remove you from the Black family tapestry in no time." Draco couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

**Author's Note** – I know it's been a while since I last updated. I'm sorry; school, exams, projects, etc. But enough of my excuses! At first this chapter was going to be Ginny and Hermione, but then once I thought about it, I figured Tonks would be more appropriate. In a lot of fics, it's always Ginny who's Hermione's best girl friend, and while I think they have a good relationship in the books, I just felt that it would be more apropos for Hermione to have this discussion with Tonks. She's like the cooler older sister figure, she's seen a lot, she's unbiased with Hermione, and she _is _Draco's cousin after all.

Oh, and I almost forgot! I wrote another Dramione one-shot while on my little hiatus from this fic. It's a comedy where Hermione gets drunk, and Draco takes her home. So if you're in the mood for something a little off the wall, check it out in my profile, _Before You Accuse Me_. Thanks for reading!


	19. Don't Cry, No One's Dying

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's world, not mine.

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**

It didn't take Draco long to adjust to living at Grimmauld Place. Hermione and Draco would have breakfast together every morning. They didn't have to worry about Harry. He was usually gone or just coming home, and would spend the early mornings in his room. Once Hermione left for Healer training, Tonks would come over and spend the day with Draco. Hermione wasn't sure what it was the two of them did all day, but Tonks helped Draco stay out of trouble. Some days, Hermione would meet the two of them in Muggle London for lunch. At first, Hermione was the slightest bit jealous that Tonks was able to spend her days with Draco, but then she realized how silly it was. Tonks and Draco were family after all, and Hermione couldn't stay with him all the time anyway. From what Hermione could see, he still wasn't comfortable around Harry, or the various Order members that were always in and out, but Tonks and Draco had been steadily building a relationship.

Harry's research and trip to Spinner's End proved useless. Just as Draco had suspected, the place was empty, devoid of everything. Apparently, it had been abandoned, though it was hard to tell when. For days, Harry, Ron, and a team of Aurors scoured the place to no avail.

The days of summer waned. A chill was about the air, and the days were getting progressively shorter. September was upon them and with September, brought Hermione's birthday. Not like it would be a big deal that year. It was no milestone. After seventeen, it was just another year, nothing special. Beside, they were still in the middle of a war. Harry had yet to find the last Horcrux and he still had the little matter of Voldemort looming over his mind.

* * *

Regardless of its unimportance, September 19th rolled around. _Just another day_, Hermione thought as she made her way downstairs. She found Draco in the kitchen preparing a meal fit for a king.

"What's all this?" Hermione asked making her way into the kitchen.

"Well," he said taking a sip of coffee, "it _is _your birthday after all," he said to her, just as she had in June.

"Cheeky," Hermione said, as she went to fix herself a cup of coffee.

"Happy birthday, Granger," Draco said before pecking her cheek.

"Thanks," she said taking her coffee cup to the table, "but it's no big deal. It's just another day," she insisted.

"Nonsense," he said as he set a plate of eggs, toast, and waffles in front of her.

"Draco, I can't eat all this," she told him gently.

"So pick. It's your birthday," he said. Hermione started to eat her eggs as Draco joined her at the table. He took a piece of her toast and nibbled. "Are they really making you go into work today?"

"Draco," she said swallowing her food, "people get sick everyday. It makes no difference to them if it's my birthday."

"Well I think you should skive off today."

"And do what? Stay here and have you cook for me all day. Tempting as that sounds, I'll have to pass."

"You don't know what you're missing, Granger. Many women would find that to be their version heaven," he smirked. Hermione just rolled her eyes.

"What are you and Tonks up to today?" she asked changing the subject as best as she could.

"Oh you know," he said, "a little bit of this, a little bit of that."

"Fine, have your secrets," Hermione said checking her watch. "I'd better go. I'll see you tonight."

"Try to get off work early," Draco said sincerely. Hermione gave him that look, but he merely cocked an eyebrow back at her. She sighed and rolled her eyes but smiled in spite of herself.

* * *

Indeed, it was just another day at Saint Mungo's. Hermione got back from work the usual time half expecting some grand meal Draco had spent all day preparing for the two of them. When she stepped out of the fireplace however, well that was a different story.

"SURPRISE!" Draco, nearly the entire Weasely clan, not the mention most of the Order, were all present and accounted for, except for Harry. Ron helped her out of the fireplace where Hermione stood frozen in shock. "Happy birthday Hermione," Ron said as he hugged her.

"I can't believe all of this," she told them.

"Oh Hermione, come on, don't cry. No one's dying," Ron told her when he saw the tears. Ginny rolled her eyes at her older brother and took her turn to hug Hermione.

"Ignore him, Hermione," Ginny told her. It took Hermione nearly twenty minutes to greet everyone properly. She made it to Draco and Tonks last, as they were both hanging towards the back.

"Many happy returns, Hermione."

"Thanks Tonks." Hermione looked over to Draco expectantly.

"Don't look at me, I did the whole birthday thing this morning, remember? Or is your memory going in your old age, Granger?" he asked her.

"Ha ha, very funny. It'll happen to you one day," she told him.

"One can only hope, Granger," he said and held up a cup to her. "Cheers."

"Not back on the sauce are you?" she asked him as she took the cup from him and sniffed it.

"The Weasley woman made it," Draco informed her.

"Well, I'd watch out if I were you," Hermione explained, "_Fred and George,_ you know."

"Will do, Granger. Now go party, it's your birthday."

* * *

It took Hermione some prodding before she found out that it was actually Draco's idea to throw her a surprise party. Ginny spilled the beans after a few cups of punch. Hermione had noticed Fred lingering around the punch bowl a little too long and steered clear of it. Tonks had told Mrs. Weasley that she and Draco thought it might be nice to have a little party for Hermione's birthday. Tonks convinced her with the old, "and beside, everyone could use it times like these." Hermione was glad too, but she was upset that Harry had been missing.

"Ron, where's Harry? I haven't seen him all day," Hermione asked slightly worried. Ron handed her a glass of punch and told her that Harry had to stay late at Auror training, and before he could come home he had to make a stop along the way. "A stop for what?" Hermione asked him.

"Never you mind that, Hermione. You'll find out," Ron told her. _Her birthday gift_, of course.

"Fine," she told Ron, "but I'm still not drinking _this_."

"Hey Hermione?" Ron stopped her as she went to leave him. "Are we, er, I mean, are we all right? The two of us? I know it's been a little weird, but–"

"But we're still best friends," she interrupted, "and nothing can change that. Promise?"

"Promise."

Hermione scanned the room but couldn't find Draco. When she asked Tonks, she said that Draco had gone upstairs for something a while ago and never came back down. Hermione excused herself and went upstairs to find him. His door was closed but she knocked. He opened the door with a smirk on his face.

"Couldn't help it, could you?" he asked her stepping aside to let her in.

"Couldn't help what exactly?" she asked him.

"You wanted to know what I was doing. You're so nosey, Granger."

"Well it's _my _party, and I can nose if I want to," she told him. "So what _are _you doing up here anyway?"

"I was waiting for you to come find me so I can give you your gift."

"Gift? You didn't have to–"

"Granger, don't finish that sentence," he interrupted. He handed her a box wrapped in silver paper. "Go on, open it."

Hermione delicately tore the paper, causing Draco to roll his eyes. "Oh hush," Hermione smiled. She opened the box to find another box.

"It's a box. Oh, it's lovely," she said as she examined the box more closely. It had her initials monogrammed on the outside.

"Open it," he told her. She looked at him excitedly. When she did, the box played music. Not just any music, "_Moonlight Sonata_". And there was an inscription on the inside as well. "_I grant you the gift of song_." Hermione laughed.

"Draco, this is the most thoughtful gift anyone's ever given me. Thank you so much," she said and kissed his cheek. He turned the slightest shade of pink.

"You're welcome. Shall we go back downstairs?"

* * *

"Make a wish dear!" Mrs. Weasley brought out the cake and everyone sang to Hermione before she blew out the candles. She cut the customary first piece before letting Molly take over. Hermione sat back and enjoyed her cake until she heard one of the plates crash and break. Hermione was horrified at what she saw.

"Draco!" Hermione yelled, and rushed over to him. He had collapsed onto the floor and breathing erratically. The color had drained from his face and he began sweating profusely. He was in pain. No, not pain, agony; _torture_ it looked like. And Hermione wasn't sure what to do for him.

* * *

**Author's Note** – Finally an update! The usual excuses apply. Exams, projects, you guys know how it is. Sorry for the lateness in this update though. I was stuck, and then I got an idea for this chapter. Then I was like, even better, let's celebrate Hermione's birthday! The gift of song returns, even though it sucks, but I don't think _this_ gift of song sucks (though I wrote it so I could be biased – originally Draco was going to write her a song but I think that bordered on cheese/fluff and there's no piano in Grimmauld Place). Thanks for reading, let me know what you guys think! 


	20. Saving Her

**Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling's world, not mine.

* * *

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Everyone cleared a path for Hermione as she ran towards Draco. The pain must have been pure agony, and Hermione didn't even know what was wrong.

"Draco," she crouched down to him, "what's going on, what's the matter?" Draco was clutching his left arm. "Draco I want you to let go of your arm, okay?" He wasn't listening to her. Either that or he couldn't hear what she was saying. Hermione took Draco's face in her hands and looked him square in the eyes, "Draco, I need you to do as I say. Trust me, all right?"

"Granger, it hurts," he said through bating breaths.

"I know, let me see it." Draco finally let go of his left arm and Hermione gasped at what she saw. The material of his black shirt had been burned straight through. The Dark Mark was scorching Draco's arm right before her eyes. "Draco, your Mark is turning white, what does that mean?" she said trying to keep calm.

"White?" he panted, "it's never–"

"It's never done this before?" she asked him.

"I think," he said, "I would remember the pain."

The room full of Order members and several Aurors were no help. None of them had seen anything like this before.

"Granger," Draco called out to her in barely a whisper. He was still breathing erratically. "What's wrong with me?"

"I don't know, Draco," she said taking his right hand. "Don't worry I'll figure it out."

"What would I do without you, Granger?" he said with as much a smirk as he could muster before passing out. Hermione refused to let herself panic. She went straight into Healer mode.

"Tonks, levitate Draco upstairs to his room. Make him as comfortable as you can. Ron, in my room there's a bunch of Healing books. Gather them up and–" Hermione was interrupted however, when Harry Apparated into the room looking like Draco had a minute ago. "Harry? What the–"

"I did it, it's over." Harry managed to get out before he too passed out. Lucky for him, Lupin was close and caught him.

* * *

Hermione didn't get much sleep that night, between taking care of Harry and Draco, and piecing together the puzzle of the events of that night. Harry had woken up not long after they got him upstairs to his room, and told everyone what had happened.

That he had gone to Godric's Hollow after Auror training to pick up Hermione's gift. How the special collector's edition of _Hogwarts: A History_ had not come in yet and he got angry and stormed out. That he ended up at his parents' tree and sat there for an hour until he became so angry with himself that he cast _some _spell towards the tree that destroyed it.

How the tree turned out to be the final Horcrux; the one they had been searching ages for, right under Harry's nose the whole time. How right after Harry realized what he'd done, Voldemort showed up in Godric's Hollow for their final duel. That the whole time Harry could hear his parents and Sirius' voices, and then suddenly it was over. How somehow, Harry had finally defeated the Dark Lord (he was still a little fuzzy on the actual duel, but Hermione suspected it was post-traumatic stress that caused his memory lapse) and Aparated himself back to Grimmauld Place.

* * *

Hermione realized that Draco's sudden illness was not an illness at all, but merely the result of the Dark Lord's fall. He woke up a few hours after Harry the next morning with Hermione at his bedside.

"Granger?"

"It's okay, Draco."

"What happened?" he asked her.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"Granger, answering my question with another question is annoying," he said sitting up. His strength must have been coming back. Hermione gave him a look and Draco rolled his eyes at her. "I remember we were getting ready to have cake and I felt...pain. Indescribable pain coming through my Dark Mark," he said and looked to his left arm. "What happened to my arm?" he asked her once he noticed the bandage over the place where his Dark Mark resided. "What happened to my shirt?" he asked, realizing he was missing his shirt.

"I had to take it off of you," Hermione told him.

"Why Granger you little minx," he smirked.

"Draco it's not funny. Your mark burned a hold straight through your shirt. I bandaged it up so you wouldn't irritate it."

"What happened?" he asked her in all seriousness.

"It's over, Draco. Last night, Harry and Voldemort. Harry came back."

"My arm," Draco said gently brushing his bandage, "I felt it. I felt the Dark Lord's defeat didn't I?" he said. Hermione nodded.

"It's really over, Draco" she told him.

"Oh Granger," he said when he saw her face and smiled. "You can be so naive sometimes. It's not even close to being over for me. I'm still a marked man, no pun intended."

"Draco, you're not a marked man anymore. Don't you get it? Most of the Order was here last night and a bunch of Aurors. You have witnesses, you had nothing to do with it. You've been at Grimmauld Place for weeks now; _I've_ been with you, _Tonks_ has been with you. There is no way they can prosecute you and if they even _try _my bum will be up there so fast defending you. I promise."

"Granger, you are something else."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she said as she got up. "I'm going to get you some food. After you eat, I'm going to take another look at your arm and put some Murtlap Essence on it and if you're still tired I'll give you an Invigoration Draught."

"I think you just like seeing me without my shirt on," he told her wiggling his eyebrows. She rolled her eyes.

* * *

She had to hand it to Draco, he certainly could heal quickly. In no time at all he was back to his usual self. Three days after "The Fall," as the Daily Prophet had called it, the two of them had another go at Hermione's birthday cake in the middle of the night.

"So Harry was at the Ministry today," Hermione started.

"How wonderful for him," Draco said eating cake. Hermione went on.

"I'm sure you'll be relieved to know that even though you've served as a one time servant of Voldemort, you're getting off with relatively no punishment whatsoever," Hermione said nonchalantly.

"What do you mean by relatively?" Draco asked.

"You're going to be fined a good amount," she explained, "but seeing as how you can now access your Gringott's accounts that really shouldn't be a problem. Congratulations Draco, you're a free man again."

"So that means I'm free to leave? I can go on with my life, get my own place to live?" Draco asked. She nodded. "I'm free?" Draco said with a hollow laugh, as if even he couldn't believe what he was saying. "I can even get a bloody house elf if I want, because I'm free!"

Hermione's stomach sank. She never really considered what would happen after everything was over. All she knew was that Draco's role in her life would change, and she wasn't happy about it. They got up from the table and cleaned their dishes in silence. When they were done, Hermione finally worked up her courage.

"What are you going to do now?" she asked him nervously, "now that it's all over?"

"I'll be alright," he assured her. "_Someone _once told me that when happily ever after doesn't work out, you pick yourself up and keep on going, even if it hurts like hell." She smiled. "You know, Granger, you taught me a lot."

"Like what?" She couldn't help but wonder.

"Now I can pick myself up and keep going. I have a chance at a happily ever after."

"I'm happy for you, Draco."

"Yes well, you should be. There's something else I learned from this whole experience aside from the fact that it's _generally _not a good idea to try to take over the world for evil." She let out a laugh despite herself. "Granger?" She looked up at him trying to mask her sadness. "My happily ever after needs you."

"Me? What for?" she anxiously asked him as her stomach did flips.

"For the happily part," he smiled at her. Her heart skipped a beat and she tried to suppress her smile. She turned her back to him for a moment.

"That's a lot of responsibility on my part, you know," she said trying to hold herself together. "Your happiness on my shoulders. You think I'm good enough for the job?" she asked him turning back to him now, wearing his smirk.

"I think it's a job that _only you _can fill, Granger," he said, placing his arms around her. Instinctively, she did the same and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Well then," she sighed, "I guess I've no other choice."

"I guess not," he said as kissed her. It was like no other kiss she'd had before. It was full of passion, love; Draco was gentle but powerful, it just felt _right_. "You know, Granger, you need to be kissed. And often. And by someone who knows how." She laughed and shook her head.

"You know, Draco, it's not so easy," she said earnestly, "loving me. You're going to need a lot of patience for everything I'm going to put you through."

"Granger you saved me," he said looking directly into her eyes. "Now I get to be the one to save you.

"Save me?" she asked, "from whom?"

"From yourself." She smiled and kissed him again.

"You've got a deal," she said. He held her tighter and started smirking at her. Draco let out an overly dramatic sigh.

"I mean, when you think about it, who else is up for the job? Potter? Weasley? No, they'd never make it. _I'm_ the _only one _who can handle you. And _that _is saying a lot about me."

"Oh it's saying a lot about you, Malfoy," she said as she rolled her eyes, still in each others arms.

"So it's back to Malfoy is it?"

"Well _you _don't call me Hermione," she said to him as she turned her face away.

"'Granger' is a term of affection," he said taking advantage of the situation and nuzzling her neck. "Now normally in the movies, right now I would sweep you off your feet and carry you upstairs to the bedroom where we would make sweet and passionate love all night long," she laughed, "and you of course would then bask in the glory that is Draco Malfoy and how _lucky _you are to be with me, however," he stopped and looked into her eyes, "I don't really see you as the 'carrying to the bedroom' type."

"Well, you're correct, Mr. Malfoy. Ten points to Slytherin."

"Shall we?" he asked as he held his hand out to her. Hermione took it and walked with him upstairs.

* * *

Draco was already awake and watching Hermione sleep when she woke up in his arms the next morning. He had a smile on his face and kissed her tenderly.

"You're not going to let me get a house elf, are you?" he asked her.

"Nope," she said.

"The sacrifices I make for the woman I love," he mumbled as he went back for another kiss.

* * *

**Author's Note** – That's it! I can't believe I actually made it this far, I'm so excited. Okay, so I have to say that I wrote the very last bit about two months ago, but it took me forever and a day to figure out how to get from Hermione's birthday to the very end. I hope it doesn't feel too rushed. I didn't think you guys would want to read about Draco going through a long trial and stuff, and I didn't want to write anything like that. I'm happy with where I ended it, and I hope you guys are too.

I really just want to say _thank you_. Thank you to all of you guys, the readers! Seriously, this fic was going to be a few chapters long but you all responded so positively I just couldn't stop myself. Your comments and words of encouragement and criticism really helped and I can't thank you guys enough. And thanks to all my regular reviewers especially, it means a lot that you take the time out every chapter to respond, even if it's something like, "nice chapter, can't wait for the next one." So for the very last time (in this fic at least, because I will continue writing Dramione fics!) thank you all so, so, so, much for reading. Let me know what you guys think!

xoxo


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